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penvisions · 1 year ago

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by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 3}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: With the overnight patrol behind you, it's now time for your annual leave from the roster altogether. But Joel doesn't know that and you're hesitant to tell him, feeling like it would be the best for you two to get some distance. But as with all things involving the man, it was hard to keep the distance.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, two (2} instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, talk of pregnancy, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, sexual content, masturbation (f and m), yearning, protective joel, tommy is a scheming lil brother and we love him for it, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i'm not really back in wake of some bad comments and confrontational haters, but love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

A knock on your door the next morning caught you bundled up and out in the backyard, the sound echoing throughout your empty house. It was small: a simple one with a larger than average kitchen, a living room, one bathroom across the hall from the bedroom, and a laundry / mudroom with a deep utility sink and a few cabinets of storage. It’s where you kept the tools for the garden, where you washed and prepped everything you managed to grow before moving it into the kitchen space. But you were on the modest back porch, a cup of steaming coffee cooling in the early morning air as you looked out at the trees that took up a good chunk of the large area.

Dragging your eyes from the one that looked like it was about at the end of its life, a large crack running down through the trunk, you heeded the knock at the early hour. Knowing it could only be one of four people.

“Was worried I woke you for a moment, you sleep okay?” Maria greeted you as she waddled past you and moved into the kitchen. She spied the other cups worth of contents in the coffee maker and sighed in longing. The scent of it heavy in the air, mixed with cinnamon you were apt to put in with the grounds before brewing. But her sigh turned into a delighted hum as she shifted her attention to the cooling pan atop the stove and moved closer to inspect the baked goods settled on it.

“Probably not much better than you, momma. How you feelin’?” You slid a plate to her as she began to pick pieces off from one of the flaky breakfast hand pies you had made. She placed the one she had begun eating along with another before following you to the large table that ran through the middle of the room. Setting it down and pulling out the chair for her, you helped her to lower into it. With a caressing touch to her swollen belly, permission given from her months ago, you began to set up a kettle for some tea.

“Big.” She stuffed a large bite into her mouth, eyes fluttering at the taste of the filling. Crumbs of the flaky crust sticking to the front of her shirt, jacket having been shrugged off. “Olive, these are fantastic. Is there anything in here I shouldn’t be eating?”

“I wouldn’t have let ya get your hands on it if that were the case. Just bacon and onion jam, eggs, a little bit of milk, and a whole bunch of thyme. Nothing too bad.”

“Nothing too bad, my ass. You should totally make these for the mess hall on your next shift.”

Another knock on the front door stole the words from your mouth and you looked to the woman who all of a sudden had great interest in picking the crumbs from where they had fallen.

“Maria, what is this?”

“Can’t I call on a fellow morning bird without ulterior motives?”

“You could, but you didn’t this time around. I don’t get many visitors so I wonder who you- Oh! Good mor-morning, Joel.” Surprise overtook you as you were suddenly face to face with the man over the threshold of your front door. He was bundled up as well, though his hair was wet, slicked back and shining in the early morning sun peeking over the mountains.

“I just figured we could all chat about the Teton route.” Maria’s voice carried from the kitchen. But it didn’t break the stare you could feel as Joel’s eyes took in the apron you had thrown on earlier.

“Mornin’.” He rumbled, a hand reaching out from within his jacket pocket to swipe at your cheek. His touch burned, but you were frozen in place at such a forward action so early in the day. Lips parting as you tried to pull in a breath but you were sure all you managed to do was huff out what air was already in your lungs. “You got a lil flour or somethin’.”

“O-oh, um, thank you.” His hand lingered, the back of his knuckle dragged down your cheek and then the finger curled around the neckline, tugging slightly. Nerves sparkling as you felt the warmth from his hand so close to your neck, you could only swallow as his eyes finally met yours with a playful grin displaying that damned, endearing dimple normally hidden in his scruff.

“Never seen you so homey before, it’s a good look on you.” His voice was tipped low, just for you and you felt your stomach lurch. When you didn’t say anything, just continued to stand there caught like a fly in his trap, he chuckled and asked if you were going to let him inside. It was then you realized he had inched closer, crowding you in the doorway, with his hand still around the strap of fabric over your neck.

“Oh! Of cour-course, I’m so sorry. It must be the early hour taking my manners.” But you knew he wouldn’t believe that for a second, he knew you were a morning person. Something you had revealed to him on patrol. Just like he had revealed to you that he took any opportunity to sleep in, apt to hit snooze an embarrassing about of times if the sound even reached him. You had both laughed at the polarizing tendencies, ribbing each other about it throughout the day. It had been a good one, free of the underlying…tension of whatever had shifted when you had pressed your lips to his injuries. Something you would take back if it meant cutting the undercurrent of whatever had befallen your interactions.

“There’s, um, breakfast hand pies and one last serving of coffee,” You spoke as you turned your back on him and went to retrieve your own mug from the porch.

After the shuffle of greetings, of ushering Joel to take a seat at the table. You plated up two of the hand pies and poured the last of the coffee for him, setting it down in front of him with a small smile before fetching the whistling kettle and preparing a cup of tea for Maria who was already a bite into her second pastry.

“Now, the horse you two lost.”

Joel made a surprised sound, mouth biting into one of the pastries on his plate.

“It was my fault.” You rushed out before Joel could even respond around his mouthful. His eyes flicked to you across the table where you had finally taken a seat, watching as you willingly took the blame for the unfortunate event. “I wasn’t quick enough taking down the Infected that were coming at us. Two of them had set their sights on her, with all the noise she was making while another went after Joel on the ground.”

“And there was no use of anything other than the shotgun?”

“That’s correct.”

“Joel, do you agree with her synopsis?”

“Yes. She acted fast, but there was no way Kiana was gonna make it back, she had been freaking out the second they came outta the tree line, most likely would’ve run off.”

“She always was easy to spook, that’s why she was designated as your horse, calmed her down and got her to focus.” It made sense, Joel was a very level headed person, capable of gently focusing someone should their minds or attention wander.

“I wish every incident discussion was this lovely. No arguing, good food, people who don’t want to go around in circles. You two are truly one of the best pairs we have on the roster.” Maria stirred in a bit more honey into her tea, taking a sip as she looked you both over.

A nervous laugh bubbled up from you as you dug into your own pastry, unaware of them sharing a look.

“This is amazing,” Joel offered, reaching for the kitchen towel folded atop the table to clean his hands off. “You should make these your next shift at the mess hall.”

“I just told her that, imagine the buzz they would cause.”

“They’re not all that special.” You muttered, shoulders rising as you felt rather put on the spot.

“This filling, these onions? It had to have taken a lot of concentration to reduce them down so soft but not mushy. Take the credit where it’s due.” Joel hummed his agreement as he reached for his mug.

“You’re off patrol this week and next, to do your annual thing.” Tommy announced as he sat beside you, his tray thudding against the top of the table, laden down with food from this mornings offerings.

“I can still patrol and get what I have to done.” You didn’t look up from the notebook you were writing in, trying to map out the way you were going to turn the harvest of the olive trees in your backyard into. If you were being honest, patrol twice a week wasn’t so bad with the added allure of Joel Miller. But it would be hard to juggle it paired with the time of year. Every autumn you took out your dirtiest, most ratty pair of overalls and got to work picking the fruit from the trees. Taking your time to sort them, wash them, turn them into oil and pickle some of the others. It was just you, hands aching at the end of the day from spending it all at your kitchen table with various tools. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The kitchen was your happy place. Even after the end of the world. Or maybe in spite of it.

But this year, you didn’t want to miss out on patrol, normally taking the two weeks off to sort everything out and give all your attention to the gift of fruiting trees. Even if…you felt like it would be good for you to get some space from the man you felt in every other thought. The past two weeks had yielded quiet patrols, just the passing of a thermos between hands. You were sure you had overstepped a line by pressing your lips to his face, lost in the moment of adrenaline and want after those Infected had tried to turn you both.

His eyes were heavy on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but searching for what you didn’t have the faintest clue. Perhaps he was thinking of a way to bring it up and let you down gently. Tell you that he hadn’t appreciated your affections that way. Whatever went on behind that handsome, rugged face you hadn’t a clue.

“We both know that’s a mighty lie,” He stuffed an overfull spoon of grits into his mouth, humming around it as he pointed the utensil at you. “Didn’t you say this would be the last year for one of them?”

Sighing, you set the pencil you had been writing with down. Trading it for the cup of coffee in front of you.

“Unfortunately, the trunk spilt when we had those winds come through in February. I’m surprised it bloomed any fruit to be honest.”

“It’s a fighter, like it’s caretaker.”

“Oh hush, tryna flatter me.”

“Don’t you know it.” He winked, cheeky smile growing wider underneath his mustache as his eyes caught sight of something over your shoulder. You were about to turn to see what had him so delighted when a pair of hands placed a tray right next to you. The burly form of Joel huffed as he settled into the seat beside you.

“Mornin’.” He greeted, placing plate of toast in front of you, his hand momentarily brushing against yours before he dug into his own food. You felt heat bloom up your neck and across your cheeks as Tommy feigned a cough to cover up a snicker. Joel leveled an unimpressed stare at the man, an eyebrow cocked and a warning in his eyes. You pretended not to see it, busy slathering a piece of the gifted toast with some butter left out on the tables for the breakfast service.

“Good mornin’, brother.” Tommy lilted, face lit up with something you were hesitant of. Scheming, the man was scheming, up to absolutely no good. And you had a hunch it involved not only you but the man beside you. Taking a bite of the toast, you noticed the way his face twitched before he started whatever he was up to. “How are you today?”

“Fuck off, Tommy.” The older man didn’t even look up from his plate, knowing from years of experience that his brother was aiming a mischievous look his way. “I gotta list a mile long of stuff to do this week and next, don’t have time for whatever else you’ve taken on.”

“That’s a shame,” He took another heaping bite, chewing it thoughtfully as he looked between you both, taking in the way neither of you were willing to look at the other. “Sorry, Olive. Looks like you’ve gotta fell that tree on your own.”

“That’s okay. I’m a big girl, did it the year before last and I’ll do it again this time around.” You downed the last two gulps of your coffee. Gathering up your notebook, you shoved out of your chair and stood, preparing to walk away. But he scrambled, quick on his feet and determined. Joel glanced at you, a parting nod the only indication from him.

“Well, seeing as you’ll be off patrol the next two weeks, that should give you enough time to take care of it.”

“Tommy!” You whirled around on your heel, eyes wide. You hadn’t wanted Joel find out this way, from his trouble making little brother with you right beside him.

“What’s he talkin’ about?” Joel turned with a loaded fork halfway to his mouth. Forgotten in wake of the sudden news. He looked taken off guard, shock coloring his features as he looked to you for answers.

“Didn’t she tell you, brother?” Tommy set his own fork down, tray nearly empty now. “Olive always takes this time of year off to tend to the trees. Harvest and make that lovely oil you see everywhere around town.”

“That’s yours?” His eyes danced around the mess hall, taking in the incriminating glass jars atop every other table. The light green contents revealing the literal fruits of your labor. The hours you would spend hunched over your own kitchen table working away on ensuring everything was perfect. He looked down to the warm plate of food in front of him, the roasted potato hash and scrambled eggs. “You’re the reason the town has cooking oil?”

“Yes, it is.” Feeling pleasure flutter at his impressed tone, you knew your voice had taken on a breathy quality. If Tommy’s growing grin was any indication, his teeth sparkling as he watched the two of you across from him. Joel had turned completely in his chair to face you, while you had pivoted your body in his direction. Both of you undoubtedly drawn to each other even in the most casual of ways.

“What are you gonna do with the wood? Didn’t you burn it and mix the ashes into the soil last time?”

“Yes, I did.” You gripped the notebook tight, fingers aching from the pressure. “It helped to reduce the acidity of the soil and ward off slugs from targeting the blooms once spring came around.”

“Well, uh, I can come by and lend a hand. If you needed it, but I don’t want to intrude if you’ve got it all under control.” Joel ran a wide palm over the back of his head, fingers brushing through the curls as he offered his help in a round about way. Something you suspected Tommy had anticipated. It took you a second to process his words, remembering the feel of his hair tangled around your own fingers. It had been soft despite a days’ worth of travel and an overnight stint atop a dusty mattress. You wondered how he cared for it, what it looked like slicked back fresh from the shower, water dripping from the ends of it and-

“Oh, that’s okay!” You shuffled on your feet, shaking the rather intrusive thoughts and not wanting to burden the man with another task. “You just said you’ve got a lot to do, don’t want to add to it.”

“I could shuffle a few things around, clear up an afternoon to come help ya out.” He insisted, something smoldering in his dark eyes. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he regarded you carefully, as if he had noticed the lingering gaze on his movement. He shifted to pull that damned little note pad of his own from his back pocket and flipped it open. Looking over the long list penciled on the page.

“No, no, it’s okay, really. You don’t have to do that, Joel.” You waved your own notebook at him, hoping he realized you kind of wanted the space from him. Kind of needed it, actually. To get the image of his softened face out of your head and the ability to look at him without feeling a jolt of desire strike through your body. Space would probably be good, would allow you to reign everything in and be better equipped to ride alongside him once again. The lines had begun to blur and they needed to be defined.

“It’s no problem, I can-“

“It’s really okay, I can handle it. But uh- th-thanks for the offer.” You scurried away before he could add your name to the list among his other tasks. “More important stuff to tend to than a me-measly tree.”

“I really don’t’-“

“I’ve got it.” You called over your shoulder, leaving the two men to their breakfast.

The second you were walking through the door, Joel rounded on the younger man. The shit-eating smirk was securely in place among his brother’s features across the table. Irking Joel further.

“Shut up.”

“Oh brother, you got it bad.”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

“C’mon, she could really use the help. It’s just her.”

“No one offers to pitch in? The other women with personal gardens all help each other out.”

“It’s the age gap. Olive’s about a decade or so younger than them.”

Joel contemplated his brother’s words, thinking back on the thinly veiled disdain Marsha had voiced to him the last time he had been tending to the woman’s home. He knew you were younger, but he hadn’t anticipated it causing any problems with the rest of the settlements occupants just how it wasn’t the cause of any between you and him. At least, not any real problems. Age was just a number nowadays, if you were alive, you were alive. If you weren’t well, you weren’t. Friendships and connections blooming between people regardless of age and backgrounds in abundance as people clung to what they could in order to survive.

“Does anybody ever…talk about her to you?”

Shifting from annoying little brother to something more serious, Tommy looked over his brother as he chewed the bite he had just taken.

“What do you mean?”

“Marsha seemed to insinuate that Olive is common topic of discussion.”

“Marsha doesn’t like Olive. Never has.” Tommy scowled, stabbing at a chunk of potato rather harshly.

“Does it have to do with the patrol you won’t tell me about?”

“…yeah.” Tommy was suddenly very interested in the rest of his food, ignoring the look he could feel Joel pinning him with from across the table.

“Tommy.”

“Her old patrol partner was someone she showed up with, when we first brought her here. He and Marsha’s daughter got on quickly, were engaged within a year and planning on havin’ a kid or two.”

Joel was silent as he picked at his food. Marsha’s daughter, Millie, didn’t have any kids or a husband that he knew of. The two women sharing a home close to his.

“They blame her for what happened.”

“What did happen?”

“Joel, you’ve gotta ask your girl that. It’s not my place to give details.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“But you want her to be, c’mon, I can see it plain as day.”

“We are not talking about this.”

“I think she likes you back. But it’s hard to tell since she doesn’t get a lot of interaction around town aside from when she’s trading or cookin’.”

“She don’t like me like that. We’re just…friendly.”

It wasn’t friendly the way Joel took advantage of any reason to touch you. From soothing minor injuries, to brushing his fingers over yours as he passed you something, to brushing things you tended to smear along your cheek. Just to hear the hitch of your breath and to witness the way your eyes widened. It wasn’t friendly the way you were the last thing he thought of at night and the first thing he thought of when he woke up. It wasn’t friendly the way his gaze lingered on you while out on patrol or when he caught sight of you around town.

It wasn’t friendly the way he spent hours in his workspace sketching out designs and carving into wood in the hopes that you would enjoy what he was creating.

It wasn’t friendly the way he didn’t engage with you for worry of making you nervous, like he noticed he had begun to do. Stuttering every other word around him and others in a habit he couldn’t figure out was his fault or something you were just prone to do. It wasn’t friendly how he wanted to see if it was just him that caused it, wanted to see how quickly words would fail you completely if he were to focus his attention on you in a more than friendly way…

But his brother didn’t know anything about that.

Never one to miss out on the chance for a slow morning, you allowed yourself to wake up naturally.

The sun was just beginning its descent from the highest point in the sky, peeking in through the drawn blinds of your bedroom.

Your body was warm underneath the covers, sleep making your mind take the sensation and let it influence your dreams.

A large body hovered over you, looming like the mountains around the settlement. Protective, a sight to behold at any time of day, as steady as the day turns to night. But the body was so much closer, pressing your back down into the mattress, making your head spin with the heady feel of it.

Thump, thump, thump.

Heart beating hard as pleasure coursed through your veins, brought to life by the feeling of fingers smoothing over your skin. Trailing down over your belly button and through course hair to find your slick folds. Delving between them, parting them, caressing over your fluttering core and then in, producing an obscene sound as they filled you up. Another set of fingers gentle nudging that little bundle of nerves to light your body up even further, heat encompassing you, suffocating you as they quickened their pace.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was harsh in your ears, roaring loud and with a jolt, you realized it wasn’t your heart. It was the sound of someone knocking on your front door.

Eyes flying open, the phantom sensations of being pinned down, of thick fingers caressing the most intimate parts of your body, of the rasped-out nickname in a voice that wasn’t real were ripped from you. You were alone in your bed, your hands the only ones bringing you pleasure.

“Olive?” The faint call of that deep voice your mind had tried to convince you was whispering sweet nothings in your ear was down the hall and on the other side of your front door.

What was Joel Miller doing calling on you in the middle of the day, effectively splashing a bucket of cold water over you as you realized you had been fantasizing about him as you touched yourself.

Embarrassment and guilt squashed the pleasure that had been consuming you, lingering tingles making it hard to clear the fog of your sleep hazed mind. Throwing on the robe hanging on the back of your bedroom door, you took a deep breath to steady yourself before approaching the door he knocked on again.

He must’ve been preparing to walk off when you swung your door open, his back to you and a hand on rubbing on the back of his neck. He turned back at the sound, eyes taking in the disheveled form you were sure you made in your doorway. It was the afternoon, and here you were in a robe and hardly anything else, being pulled from your bed.

“Oh, hey- you were sleeping.” His eyes quickly averted, a hand waving at you as a blush crept up along the apples of his cheeks. You wondered what had him so flustered, his hands clenching and unclenching just below the sleeves of his jacket.

“I should’ve been up already, it’s okay.” You said quietly, taking in the bulk of him on your small stoop. It was a little disorienting, mind imagining him and now being faced with him so close. “D-did you need-“

“Was coming by to see if you needed any help with taking down that tree Tommy mentioned.”

You fell silent at the way he cut you off, his words low like your own, as if he was frustrated.

“Cause if you did all you had to do was ask.”

“I-I didn’t want to add to your list, that little notepad is always so full of-“

“I offered too and you said no. But you’re not even doing what you took the time off for.”

“Excuse me?” You leaned back from him, worry and your own annoyance flaring. Just because you took one morning to yourself didn’t mean you were shirking your responsibilities. His words hitting too close to the wound that everyone else’s had dug close to your heart.

“You take the time off every year, which you didn’t tell me about. Tommy blurted it out to get some sort of satisfaction out of your miscommunication and you’re not even taking care of the trees.”

“Joel-“

“You know what, just, never mind. I’m heading around back to take care of it for you. Go back to bed.”

And then he was stomping down the steps and rounding the side of your house. The gate creaking open to signal his entrance to your backyard.

“Well, excuse the fuck outta me, Mr. Miller.” You mumbled as you shut the front door and moved back to the bedroom. Dressing in a ratty pair of jeans and a long-stained t-shirt in a rush. Putting up your hair as you walked into the back room to retrieve the axe he would need for the work he took it upon himself to do.

It was hard not to stare, your eyes glued to the man as he expertly wielded the axe and chopped down the damaged olive tree. He had shrugged off his flannel after trimming it of the few branches that stretched from the trunk, leaving him in just the t-shirt he donned underneath. A crisp white that displayed the sweat on the small of his back and between his broad shoulders. A crisp white that displayed the bulge of his biceps as he worked. A crisp white that fell just over his waist and billowed up to catch on the spiral top of his notepad peeking out from his back pocket. A crip white that now displayed his rather toned backside to you free from obstruction…

Shaking your head, you continued to pick the fruit from the others. There were three rows of about ten trees, the one you were worried about in the middle of it all. Your movements made you feel like you were slowly circling around him, honing in on the man taking out whatever frustrations he had on the plant. Until everything was gathered, and you retired back inside as the sun beat down what little warmth it still had this late in the season.

The fruit was already washed in the utility sink, resting in strainers set over ratty towels to dry atop the long table in the middle of the room. A record played in the living room, soft guitar and brass filling the space.

Sighing, you poured yourself a few fingers of whisky and then a few into a second glass as you heard the thud of the axe being set against the wall in the back room and steps heading your way.

“Joel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.” You offered one of the glasses to him, taking in the way he swiped at his sweating forehead with the back of his arm.

“I know…I’m-I shouldn’t have come at you like that. I’m sorry too.” His fingers brushed yours as he took the peace offering. But he didn’t drink until you lifted your own glass and clinked it to his. “Just…wanted there to be a reason why you weren’t by my side for a little bit.”

Stepping forward to run a hand down from his shoulder to elbow in a comforting move, you motioned him to follow you.

Through the hours of the afternoon and into the evening, you explained the difference between the colors of the fruit. The flavor profiles of each, of how you always sorted even portions of the harvest out for oil, for pickling, for the raw fruit to be shared with the town. You walked him through the process of turning a small batch into a paste, straining it over and over again to produce the oil. Two pairs of hands slick with it as he helped you after he had asked how you managed to do it.

He had asked of your knowledge, prompting you to admit that it was all learned since arriving here and being assigned to the house with the trees in the backyard. That it hadn’t been something you carried with you beforehand. You asked after his woodworking, how it had turned into crafting small figurines.

And he answered much the same as you. Learned skills to help deal with and adapt to the slower way of life Jackson allowed you both to lead.

“You left one on the table.” His voice was right behind you, having followed you into the backroom. You turned to look at him over your shoulder before going back to placing the jars in your hand into a battered plastic crate. One was for the pickled and general olives, while another was for the oil you would make once the distraction of Joel Miller was gone from your kitchen. The only evidence of such from today’s activities in his hand.

“Oh, that one’s for you.”

“I couldn’t, you need it for trade. Everythin’ helps.”

“I insist, it’ll be good to have in your kitchen.”

“It’s just gonna sit there on the counter beside the stove.”

“Well, take it. Just in case.” You whispered. Noticing how close he had gotten in an attempt to hand the jar to you. He was close enough to smell the way the olive leaves had permeated his clothing. The perfume of the freshly chopped wood stained his skin in a heady way. You felt the counter dig into your hips, having unconsciously backed into it beside the deep sink.

“In case of what, sweetheart?” He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper, tongue peeking between his lips as he took in the way you had a smudge of dirt under your eye in the warm light of your kitchen bleeding into the backroom. His gaze snapped to his hand as you bravely tangled your fingers with his own. Feeling your lips curl into a playful smile, you leaned up and whispered into his ear.

“The food critic decides to play personal chef.”

Oh, he liked that. If the widening of his pupils was any indication, the way his breath caught in his throat and he swallowed as he pulled back a little to look over your face.

He leaned in to press a cautious kiss to your cheek, knowing there was no bruise or cut to disguise his move as anything other than the blatant want for it. The soft scratch of his mustache lighting you up.

Your breath fanned out across his face, skin prickling along his body at the warmth of it bouncing back to you. A small huff the only noise coming from you. His eyes flicked up to capture yours, and you felt your heart lurch. He was so handsome, his lips looked so plush and pink this close. There was no way he could’ve missed the way you had glanced down at them, how you were thinking of feeling them pressed to your skin in other places, of the way you pulled your own bottom one between your teeth at the thought.

He leaned in, sharing breath with you, his nose brushing against yours before-

The needle of the record player scratching across vinyl startled you both, jolting in response to the harsh noise breaking the bubble of tension surrounding you both. Your hands had flown up to grip his shoulders tight while his arms had wrapped around your back and pulled you to him. Heart thundering for a completely different reason now, you cast your eyes over his shoulder toward to the record player.

With nervous laughter you stepped away from the man and set about lifting it from the still spinning record. His eyes are on you as you replace the record with another, setting it up to play and then turning back around to him. Your heart still thumping in your chest as you watch him hold tight to the jar in his hand and dip his head to you in a departing bow.

He made sure it was well into the evening before enlisting Tommy’s help. The forlorn way you had looked at the pieces of the tree once it was no longer standing proud among the others had stirred an idea in his mind. He was going to take the thickest part of the trunk, because he wasn’t stealing it away. No. He was going to return it to you once he had cut it into slabs and let it dry. He was going to return it to you in the form of a cutting board, crafted from the beloved trees in your care and in honor of the namesake you’d adapted.

But it had to be perfect. He would practice on other planks and cuts of wood until he was able to craft one that would be good enough for you. Setting his mind and heart on the endeavor.

Once he was back home with the trunk set in room set up as his workspace, stepping out of the shower and collapsing into the bed, he let a lazy smile overtake him.

He may be tired, exhausted beyond his limits. But he wouldn’t have traded his afternoon with you for all the restful sleep in the world.

He couldn’t get the feeling of your lips against his skin out of his mind. The gentle pressure of them grazing over his injuries, the gentle pressure against the patch in his beard he had never been fond of until that moment.

“Fuck,” He groaned out, palm tight around his aching cock. He had woken up thinking of your lips on more of his body, trailing over his skin in sucking kisses, tongue laving at every inch. He had been leaking and hard, his hand around himself before he had even come to complete consciousness.

The very real image of you stood in your doorway clad in nothing but your robe, the way the swell of your breasts was visible with the way you must’ve thrown it on to answer his knocking. The way your eyes were cloudy, slowly clearing and your face slightly flushed, as if you had just been- he groaned deep from within his chest. It had looked like you had just been deep in the throes of pleasure, body overwhelmed with it and torn away by his calling on you. Hair mused and breath a little too quick, he wondered what you sounded like. Would you whimper softly or moan out loudly, would you be shy and cover your face with your arms or would you scramble for any purchase as it raced through your body, swelling up to consume you.

He pumped his hand slowly now, reveling in the feeling stirring low in his gut. The strikes of pleasure moving through him as he recalled the way you had felt against him as you both rode back on your horse.

The way your hip had felt in his hands as he had tried to steady himself. His mind taking the thought and running with it, the imagining the way he would grip you from behind. You down on your hands and knees, legs parted to make room for him to fit between them, thrust against you as deep as he could, your keening-

He choked on his own breath as the sheer force of his release hit him, sudden and overwhelming. Spurts of pearlescent cum coating his hand and dripping over his knuckles.

Euphoria filling him up with satisfaction, his body humming with it until the guilt slammed into him.

He just fucked his fist to the thought of you. His patrol partner. His…friend. The woman he couldn’t get out of his mind even if his life depended on it.

Catching his breath, he looked out the window across from his bed. Stars glittering at him through the curtains as if they know all the dirty things that had just run through his mind, sharing in his secrets.

The only small blessing of his complete lack of self-control and oversight is that he doesn’t have to ride alongside you today on patrol.

“I’ve got the first batch of the season,” You announced as you walked through the doors of the small makeshift market. It was right along the main street, a few fronts down from the mess hall and the Tipsy Bison.

“Oh, lovely!” The man at the back counter praised, clearing a space atop it for you to put down the delivery.

“Marsha.” You nodded toward her in greeting, uncomfortable with the way her eyes had followed you through the few aisles after letting the man go over the contents of the crate. Another nod to her daughter, standing right beside her with a small wicker basket full of root vegetables. “I’ve got a jar in there for you, with the garlic you managed to salvage from the garden.”

She didn’t say anything, looking for all the world like her voice had been stolen from her. A small nudge from her daughter jostled her and she seemed to find it.

“Thank you, Olive. That was…very sweet of you to think of me.”

“Of course, anything to be of help.”

“Yes, of course.” She repeated your words, trailing off as she noticed a figure across the street. Her eyes tracked their movement but when you turned to see what had caught her attention there was no one there. Suddenly she was speaking your actual name and it roused your nerves to life. “You…do so much for the town, I just wanted you to know that we all appreciate the time you take each year to handle the harvest.”

“O-oh, well, um, thank you, Marsha. That’s very k-kind of you to say.”

“Momma,” Millie whispered, taking ahold of the older woman’s arm. Something in her voice you couldn’t quite get a read on. Taking that as your queue to cut off the rather awkward interaction, you waved at them and began to head back up to the counter to collect the items you had requested in exchange for the crate of jars. Your ears were strained, trying to catch the hushed words the women shared behind your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I realized how…unfairly we speak about her. Someone convinced me to apologize to her.”

“She doesn’t deserve apologies, she’s the reason-“

“Millie, we need to work on moving past that. It’s been five years now. We can all live alongside each other with the understanding of what happened.”

“No, momma, you may be ready to forgive her but I’m not. She got my Aiden and I’m not going to let her drag down Joel too.”

“He was the one who told me to be nicer to her, just trying to appease the lovely man.”

Any good feelings of a successful harvest and two weeks of working countless hours to jar, pickle, and transform the fruit from your trees vanished. The awkward yet positive sentiment from one of your more…complicated social connections going down with it at Millie’s angered words. You tried to muster up a smile for the man at the counter, taking the crate back from him with the trade items but you weren’t sure if you were able to. Not turning to look at the women, you exited the shop and made your way straight back home despite the list of errands in your pocket.

Of course Joel had caught wind of the way people spoke of you.

Heard it from Marsha herself, the source of all your troubles despite having done everything in your power to counteract the bad you had brought down on the town with your incompetence. He had put his own reputation at stake by sticking up for you and you only hoped it didn’t affect the way he was received. He was so important to the town, achieving far more than you in what he provided and brought in his skill set.

You didn’t want him to feel even a fraction of what you did as you navigated life here in the settlement. The pitying looks cast your way, the whispered words of what people felt entitled enough to voice, the way you seemed to only be good for one thing and it was the crop in the backyard of the house you had been assigned by pure circumstance.

The crate thudded atop the table where you thrust it harshly, frustration controlling your movements as you moved through the small house back to your room. Shucking off and resisting the urge to hurl your boots toward the closet you sighed as you felt tears prickle your eyes. They rolled hot down your cheeks as you curled up in the covers and gave up on what was supposed to be a good day.

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dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom@communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

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reysdriver · 2 years ago

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In Public | J.P.

Day 5 of Kinktober: Public Sex — james x gn!reader smut

warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - smut, semi-public sex, shower sex, mentions of getting caught, oral (male-receiving), a little bit of gagging/choking, cum facial, probably lowkey uncomfortable sex

words: 1.3k

a/n: IT'S FINALLY HERE! I'm sorry I'm late but I promise I'm catching up on the missing kinktober days, do not fret

Every time Gryffindor won a game of Quidditch, you wanted to give James some kind of reward. Usually, you gave him some sweets or a handmade gift right after the game, then you waited until that night to give him the other half of his reward for winning.

And today, Gryffindor won again—half just because of James. You wanted to make him feel extra good after that game, and you were feeling far more impatient than usual.

James had already started walking towards the school with a pep in his step, excited to meet you in the Gryffindor common room just like you did every game. He knew he would be getting something as a treat for winning his match. Both of you sometimes wondered if he was just playing for a daily kiss on the cheek at this point.

But when he saw you in the middle of the crowded room celebrating Gryffindor’s victory, your hands were empty. No bag of jelly slugs, no miniature pies you had snuck into the kitchens to make, not even a little animal you folded out of paper. It was just you. And even though he wasn’t sad to see you, he had gotten his hopes up beforehand.

You didn’t seem fazed at all when you locked eyes with him, despite your empty hands. You ran up to your boyfriend excitedly.

“Jamie! You did so well out there!” You told him, then wrapped your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He pouted. “You don’t have a gift for me, love?”

“Who said that?” You pulled off of him and smirked slightly. “Of course I have something for you.”

“So what is it?”

You feigned a shocked look, like he had suggested something so lewd. “I can’t give it to you here, James. We’d get detention for the rest of our lives.” You leaned forward and whispered into his ear in your best bedroom voice. “But I’ll be able to give it to you if you take me up to your dorm.”

He finally clued in to what you meant and you could feel his whole body stiffen. “Oh, well, I should shower first. I don’t want to stink while you give me whatever it is you have up in my room.” He tried to speak like you were still talking about a handwritten note so the people around you wouldn’t know what you meant.

“How about I come with you?” You suggested while batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s just as good as your dorm, plus you could have a shower and your reward at the same time.”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea, love.” He smiled. “The kind of thing that reminds me of how much I love you.”

And with that, you took his hand and you walked—more like a giddy jog, honestly—down the hall to the boys’ bathroom. As soon as you two chose a stall, you started stripping down out of your clothes.

“If anyone catches us, we’re still getting that detention, though.” James commented

“It’s way more private here.” You pointed out. “But even if we do get caught, I think it’s worth it.”

You slung yours over the stall door, just caring about them not getting wet, while James took care to fold his uniform nicely and place them beside your stuff. Noticing the look you were giving him, James rushed to his own defence.

“It’s the star player’s kit, it’s an important piece of fabric! Even worth waiting a few extra seconds for this.”

“Are your clothes safe and sound now, Jamie?” You mocked him.

“As safe as I can make them.” He replied, even though he knew you were making fun of him.

You reached behind your boyfriend’s back and turned on the water to the temperature you normally liked, but was far too hot for James to ever shower with unless he was with you.

He flinched slightly once it hit his bare back, but you soothed him by cupping his strong jaw and crashing your lips against his. It was obvious James trusted you to take the lead, meaning he wasn’t entirely sure what to do right then, especially with his hands. He opted to subtly reach behind him and turn the water temperature down, which you noticed immediately.

You stopped kissing him, and just looked at him with a raised eyebrow for a second.

“I’m sorry, love, just tell me what to do from now on.”

“Just relax. Put your hands on my head if your heart desires, but you don’t need to do anything.”

After that, you lowered yourself onto the ground, kneeling just a few inches away from James’ massive cock. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’ve seen it, but the size managed to take you by surprise every time. You brought a hand up to the erection that had already started growing, then gave him a few pumps to ensure he was hard for you.

James was looking down and watching what you were doing to him, but you didn’t feel nervous at all. Maybe that’s what love is. In fact, you actually enjoyed him watching you, and you looked up to make eye contact with him.

“Are you ready?” You asked softly.

“Of course. It’s the reason I won the Quidditch game.” Even though he absolutely had not known that this was your plan before he got on the pitch, you didn’t say anything about it.

You just leaned forward, bringing James’ cock to your mouth and swiping the tip a few times with your tongue before filling your mouth with as much as him as you could fit. James let out a heavy breath, right at the same time as you gagged around him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not wanting to ruin the mood but still worried after you choked on his length.

You nodded, then sucked on what you could fit in your mouth, and just stroked the part of James’ dick that you couldn’t.

You kept going, knowing you were doing well because of the noises that came out of your boyfriend as you worked on him. It was honestly getting to a point where your whole face was getting numb, but his moans were masking all of that going on with you.

“I’m gonna cum, love.” James said, interrupting his own chorus of groans. ”Where do you want it?”

You pulled off of him just for a moment to answer him. “Wherever you want it, Jamie. This is your present, right?”

James was surprised he didn’t finish right there, hearing your raspy, seductive voice while you stroked him like you didn’t even have to think about it.

“I wanna cum on your face.”

You smiled, and took him out of your mouth, but continued to jerk him off so he could end how he wanted.

With a moan that echoed throughout the whole bathroom, James reached his climax, painting your face with thick spurts of his cum and making you even more of a masterpiece than you were in his eyes.

You kept going until it was all out of him and on you instead, then you stood up and looked at James; you were both grinning at each other.

“I feel like that was way too good of a gift for one little Quidditch game, but I loved it.”

“I thought you would.” You said. “So, I should probably stick to this as the present after a really important game then?”James brought his hands to your face, wiping away the mess he had just made after taking a minute to admire how you looked covered in him. “I don’t care how important the game is, now that I know this is a possibility, Gryffindor will never lose again.”

#xena's kinktober celebration #kinktober #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #james potter smut #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders smut

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eclipseberrycake · 6 months ago

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Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 4

I went on Pinterest. Got inspired. I should be paying attention to class. Which I am. Kinda.

-> Part one

-> Part Two

-> Part Three

Sharing a bed with three other people isn't as romantic as you think. >:)

☁ Omg I'm writing headcanons that are actually headcanons and not practically a story i broke up because I hate connecting sentences and paragraphs?

☁ I'm shocked too.

☁ Omg I never even INTRODUCED MYSELF. Y'all can call me Milk <3 or Roo. Neither are my real name but I go by those names on Dandy's world <3 So if you've played with an Astro named Roo :).

☁Anyway.

☁ Sharing a bed with someone? Is nice, don't get me wrong. But it has it's downsides. Let alone sleeping with THREE people? Crazy stuff.

☁ For the first little while, you probably don't sleep in the same bed because...there's four of you. There's no bed big enough for you all to cuddle. When nights get really hard, sometimes one of you will crawl into whoever's closest room and that's how the night will go. Or if there's a rather hard run, one of you will put in the work and gather all the mattress, pillows, blankets and cushions you can get away with to build what is basically a large nest to keep the others nearby.

☁ By the fifth time that happens, Sprout is whining abo☁ut the work put into it and immediately is looking for a solution.

☁ Out of all of them, Sprout is the pickiest sleeper in my opinion. Astro can fall asleep literally anywhere. Literally anywhere. There have been times where panic hits and you come back waiting for the elevator to close only to realize he's not there with 12 seconds left to retrieve him.

☁ He's always very apologetic, don't get him wrong, but it's unfortunately just how the celestial works I'm afraid.

☁ Cosmo is kind of in between the two. He won't fall asleep mid-run, but he does have some things he absolutely needs or he won't fall asleep. Like, for instance, he needs blankets. At least three. No matter how hot it is, get him a fan then. That number lowers when he's sleeping with one of you to a whopping one blanket, but he needs something covering him.

☁ Sprout needs like the highest quality pillows, and blankets, and white noise, and a water cup in arms reach and and and-

☁ So Sprout is in charge of picking out a bed. However, this comes the question of who's room it will go in. Astro and Sprout have the bigger rooms, but both rooms have a...theme. And no offense to either, but You and Cosmo readily agree the fight to see which theme wins is not worth it.

☁ So, you and Cosmo take it upon yourselves to scour the blueprints of the building and talk with Brightney who has the records of the building practically memorized. She's able to direct you to the abandoned Handlers rooms. They're larger than the toon rooms and none of them have been claimed thus far.

☁ So you and Cosmo take the time, clean one out- The only one that didn't have a placard- and present it to the other two with bright grins and starry eyes.

☁ It's taken well with a flurry of kisses bestowed upon you both.

☁ So, Sprout orders the bed though the magical power of don'tlooktoohardintothelogic and the room is yours to claim.

☁ The room is evidently decorated with a mix of all four of you whether it be the addition of fairy lights along the walls from Astro, or the rugs with pies on them from Sprout, or the bedspread from Cosmo. Each of you is seen in every corner of the room and it's both brilliant and kind of frightening.

☁ Even if you all still have your original rooms, this is a much bigger step. You all wanted to see each other as much as possible previously, but now you're sleeping in the same room, waking up together, getting ready for your days together?

☁ That's all to say, sleeping together in one bed does not have its pros! There's always someone there for when a bad dream slips through the cracks, and most times at least one person is awoken by the sudden jolts and its already hushing you with a soothing presence and whispered reassurances.

☁ It gets hot and sweaty at times because of the body heat but after the introduction of a fan and opening the window, it becomes much better.

☁ Also the clothes? Stealing clothes is just normal for you all. At this point, any new article of clothing bought is just communal. You've lost count of how many times you're reading or playing games in the general area when Astro walks in, wearing your shirt and just collapses onto you for a nap, or Cosmo's in the kitchen with Sprout's apron or you've stolen Cosmo's sweater. Sprout himself is exasperated at the thought because he's so tall he sometimes struggles to steal anything. He feels left out!

☁ Have no fear though because once Astro becomes more comfortable to go without his cloak, sitting in your room in just a shirt and pants, Sprout is the first to claim dibs on it, him and Cosmo fighting over it. You're smart as you go right after the source, perched in Astro's lap as he watches them.

☁ Getting ready for bed is a routine now too. It used to be a clumpy and choppy thing, but soon enough you've all developed a way to work with each other so it's seamless with minimum hiccups.

☁ Sleeping through the night? Is...a process. Every night brings a new situation and it's a journey.

☁ Sprout and Astro are more often the not the bottom part of the pile. As I mentioned earlier, Sprout is a prissy sleeper so there have been quite a few times he's woken you up with a quiet "My arm's asleep, bud." and you have to spit back "Suck it up." before he's forcefully dragging you to a new position.

☁ The jolt sometimes wakes Astro and Cosmo, but they're quick to go right back asleep.

☁ Other nights you're woken by Astro pushing at Cosmo, groaning softly. "Just keep jamming your knee up my crotch, that's fine." It did not in fact sound fine, making you grin before burrowing back into your chosen boyfriend pillow at the time.

☁ Some nights both you and Cosmo are rudely awoken by Sprout and Astro shoving at each other, arguing over who is taking more of the giant bed despite an entire half of it not being in use.

☁ Speaking from experience, when sleeping with another person, one half of the bed goes unused at all times. Idk if it's just like instinct to huddle together, but like yeah. That's what happens. doesn't matter how you all lay down, by the end of it all, you will all be in one heap on one half of the bed.

☁ One of you falls off the bed at least once a week. Most times it's you or Cosmo, who's laying on either Sprout or Astro when they roll over and take you with them only for there to be no more bed for you.

☁ That's the true difference between them. Astro is all "Did that hurt?" and when you're like "I'll survive." He's immediately like "That's not what I asked?!"

☁ Sprout's laughing and tells you you'll be fine, dragging you into his arms and smothering your face in apologetic kisses.

☁ By the way, once they're comfortable, you'll miss the seperate sleeping quarters. Astro has shoved so many articles of clothing into your face asking if it smells clean enough Tisha won't hunt him down.

☁ He hasn't learned even after you've told him yes three times when you knew Tisha would rain hellfire.

☁ Cosmo brings treats into the bed. You know that tiktok that's like "Making food in bed without my bf/husband/dog noticing." That's him. He's literally got a griddle somewhere. You've woken up to him making pancakes, watched him turn, smile at you and return to his project like...huh.

☁ When Sprout woke up that night, wrapped in Astro, he was only mildly confused before the rest of his brain jogged awake and he was left staring at you and Cosmo both sitting at the foot of the bed, eating pancakes. Like it wasn't three in the morning.

☁ The griddle was banned the next morning.

☁ Three days later, Cosmo had an easy bake oven.

☁ Astro didn't even question it when you handed him a pretzel bite, eating it before returning to sleep.

☁ When he off handedly mentions it the next day, there's a distant shout from Sprout before he's appearing in the doorway, demanding more information.

☁ He never finds it.

☁ Arguments go crazy too.

☁ not fights, but those little squabbles you get into after youve been with someone for a while and they're existance is just so adorable and loving and it pisses you off bc wdym they chose me.

☁ On runs especially. Sprout is NOTORIOUS for pining one of you down in the elevator, hands squeezing your cheeks, "You are so annoying, oh my god- I LOVE YOU." Like he doesn't know how to handle it.

☁ I didn't mention this previously but the distinction between how he treats you three versus everyone else is SO FUNNY. Like if for some reason none of you are the same run, he literally sits in the corner and pouts. Vee is so over his shit.

☁ He does this thing where he walks up to a machine and just bangs his head against it and cries about how he doesn't want to be there.

☁ The SECOND he's back, he acts like he wasn't a mopey kitten.

☁ Like I have this imagine of him coming back, walking into the kitchen. You and Cosmo are covered in cake batter. Astro is sipping on a drink, leaning against the counter as he watches you two. Immediately he's just relaxed because this is such an idiot thing to do, but you're his idiots and that's what matters.

☁ You have a notebook of shit you've all said.

"Tough shit toons, you're distractor has a thesis to examine to a molecular level about the connection between Spongebob and Chappell Roan."

"It's like a perfect oval. Like a circle compressed by the Thigh Master."

"Her laugh reminds me of a dog just before they throw up."

"The lamp. It's just sitting there. Like you- who said they would do the dishes!"

☁ It's a national treasure.

☁ The other toons think you're their own little show. It's so funny to them. It's like the Toonashians (Have yall seen those tiktoks?)

☁ Especially when it's between Sprout and Astro. As two mains, their fights are so funny. They both do that thing where they turn to you and Cosmo and ask who's right. Neither of them are.

☁ You and Astro are not allowed in the kitchen alone. Period. You make unholy concoctions. Remember the pudding fiasco? Sprout put a ban on you from entering the kitchen. Everyone knows. Pebble rats you out fastest.

☁ Sprout is banned from the Hamilton soundtrack. You threatened to drown him in the shower after hearing him belt it for the fourth week in the row early in the morning.

☁ Speaking of! Morning routines! Sprout wakes up first. Makes it all of your problems. But he does do coffee/tea/juice/ whatever you need to start your day and has it ready with a kiss by the time you make it downstairs.

☁ Cosmo is normally next, leaving you to fend off Astro by yourself.

☁ Astro is such a cuddler, so good luck getting him off. Normally you have to pry him off with Cosmo's help after he's done his morning routine, replacing yourself with a pillow.

☁ He gets up right after that, immediately sensing the pillow is NOT you. He's grumpy and tired and just heads straight to the kitchen where Sprout is waiting. Coffee is first before anything else for him along with some snuggles.

☁ Y'all so domestic its cute asf.

☁ Of course the relationship has its pros and cons, but every day and night you're reminded of just how worth it it always is.

☁ Ahh im out of ideas so idk when the next part will come out <3

#astro dandys world #astro novalite #astro x reader #cosmo doesn't have a last name #cosmo x reader #dandy's world astro novalite x reader #dandy's world cosmo #dandy's world cosmo x reader #dandy's world sprout seedly #dandy's world x reader #dandys world sprout #dandys world x reader #sprout seedly x reader #sprout seedly #sprout x reader #moonberrycake x reader #moonberrycake

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maladaptivedaydreamhq · 4 months ago

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one of the things i really enjoy about Sevika's character is how she's both perceptive AND gets things wrong. she maneouvres Finn's attempted coup by immediately perceiving his character and thus his motivations, and utilizes it to give her boss a reality check. she doesn't allow Silco's attempt to appeal to nostalgic notions, notions of loyalty despite his own coup being built on his willingness to cause harm to his own people for their eventual greater good, to dissuade her either way - after dispatching Finn, she advises her current Best Option that she only did this because the offer wasn't good enough, and that 'there will be others'.

she learns lessons from her fights and uses them to better herself like a cyberpunk Professor from Gilligan's Underground. her arm's equivalent of a power button goes from an external potential bullseye to an internal compartment. even gives herself a longer-range weapon so she can keep herself at a little more of a distance next time, maybe even cut through fancy Topside metal if needs be!

AND she mentally rushes into head-on confrontations with Piltover, convincing herself of advantages that don't actually hold up. the first time we see her, she's insisting that they bring the fight to a city currently vastly ahead of them in terms of scientific and technological capability, on the strength of numbers alone. Shimmer hasn't even hit the streets yet, the majority of people we see in our short walk through Zaun are not battle-ready, successful community-led armed resistance is apparently such a pipe dream that even after Silco & Co. increase the city's wealth and access to resources, they STILL have to rely on chemically enhanced children to guard their means of production.

even in s2 when the chem-baron specifies once and for all that they ain't got the numbers lady, she insists that a 1v1 is potentially winnable because their enemy isn't used to their terrain. which would have SOME merit as an argument...if it wasn't for the fact that their enemy also has ultimate control over their entire infrastructure, including the literal air they breathe. 'they don't know the first thing about fighting in the fissures' holds water for foreign invasions, for drawing an uninitiated enemy into your territory and making the battle more trouble than it's worth for them. not for your centuries-long oppressors who literally live above you and have their sticky, oppressive little fingers in all your pies.

then her last ditch attempt to rally 'everyone she can bring to the table', to gather the force she proposes to successfully battle her oppressor with...only for them to be swept up and packed away in jail with barely a sweat broken. now granted, this was done primarily by a contingent of Noxus soldiers, and we don't know for certain if she intended to head to the bridge immediately with what, 200 odd people?? or if this was more of a rallying of spirits - but it still demonstrates Sevika's less-than-realistic perspective on Zaun's chances. Sevika wants to fight. she wants to bring the battle to them, to resist with the violence she knows is necessary because they're already in a violent conflict, oppression is violence under a veneer of legitimization and she knows this intimately; she wants to believe that they have a chance to win if they give it the old college try, even though the facts prooobably don't support her belief.

Sevika, so emotionally savvy that she knows how to soothe Silco's worries over Jinx and get him back on track with that boring liberation thing they've been working on, also thinks there's a point when she will become Too Much Of A Liability for Silco and he'll drop her. she recognizes Silco's affection for Jinx but misjudges its nature and therefore its depth, doesn't realize that there's nothing, not even his own death at her hands, that could make him 'give her up'. Jinx's usefulness wasn't Silco's ultimate motivator like it was for Sevika, who, because her dedication to her cause is so strong, seems to genuinely believe that triggering a mental breakdown will push them into red line territory because Jinx's damage to that cause will be a dealbreaker for Silco like it is for her (/was? who knows where the writers' minds were in s2).

Sevika's smarter than anyone gives her credit for, while also being blinkered by her own motivations; she navigates an impossible situation with astonishing strength of character, insisting on being a dynamic player in the game and not just a passive recipient of others' machinations, but with the very real element of not having perfect judgement while she does it. she believes Silco's as dedicated as she is, i mean that's why she joins him after all - they agreed on necessary sacrifices and had the determination to make them, and the fortitude to accept the consequences of taking action in an unjust world. she believes open war is ultimately necessary, and wants to liberate Zaun so badly that she tries to get to warring faster than might strictly be advisable. she's not a general or a leader and never claimed to be, but she is a person suffering the injustice of subjugation, and that clouds her judgement in all the ways we'd expect of a woman who never claimed to be a general or a leader, yet decided with terrifying resolve to do whatever she deemed necessary to get herself and her people out of that subjugation, by hook or by crook.

in summation, i love Sevika and if she killed me i'd presume it was for a reason i'd ultimately understand and probably agree with, even if its efficacy was questionable.

#sevika #sevika arcane #arcane #idk if anything i say counts as meta or analysis i'm literally just vibing w my fictional beloved

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mrfellsans · 6 months ago

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Crazy to think it's almost 2025..currently 9pm while I'm writing this and I wanted to say a few things

I might get into a bit of sensitive topics so be aware!

If you don't wanna read everything I wrote it's fine, short note:

thank you guys so much, sorry I didn't draw anything! have an amazing new year and I'm wishing you all the best genuinely from the bottom of my heart ❤

Hey first off I wanted to start it on a nice note and say HAPPY NEW YEARS TO ALL AND ALL OF MY MOOTS, you guys really changed me I mean I made SO many friends online and I'm so grateful for that and I'm also grateful for all the friends I already have that stuck to me or the people I got to know and get closer to this year. Just letting all of you know, my followers, friends, etc that I love you all dearly and I thank you all so much for the support you have no idea how much all of your kind words mean to me I love you all, adding onto that I was also able to improve my art a lot and I'm so proud of myself for that! If you have anything you have improved in just remember it and be proud of yourself for it!

And now to get a bit deep, this year was a roller coaster for me, especially during the end where a lot of stuff was going on with me. I remember at the start of 2024 I thought that I wouldn't live to see it be 2025 and my hopelessness peaked near the end and I was sure that I wouldn't make it, I was in such a horrible place but my family, you guys, other friends and people, you helped me stay here just long enough to see another day and realize that things aren't that bad, I thank everyone that has helped me get through it even when I felt like it wasn't worth it anymore and I have no idea how to thank everyone for it but thank you deeply from the bottom of my heart.

And to end it off, some goals I have next year is to improve more on me and my art. I really wanna learn how to animate, learn anatomy better, just in general I wanna learn SO much more in the art world and I hope this new year I'll achieve that!

I love you all.

And I hope you have an amazing new year ❤

-Selever

@yago-undertale @luigigirl12 @candymagnolia @izzy-the-chaotic-gremlin @moonflower-pies @cutechan555 @paras1t1c-squ1dd @bigboybird @trasho-pando2011 @tv-peppino @miaar10112 @pizzatowet13 @misdreavusplush @echostarsys @fluffygiraffe @nightofthephant0ms @yourlocalxiaosimp @idiotspage @mattplatonic @alan-william @radaverse @ask-crow-aus @the-rainbow-sandwich @panhbr @mrcarrotcakestuff @sa1tamasbiggestfan @djeycartanime05 @somecartoonisttalkshere @bellagrimfox @noir-ish-bee @lunar-dal @alice-the-demon @sunny-ismyname and literally many others

Sorry for the tag I just looked for moots that popped up on my notification box or I could think of at the top of my head so if you weren't included please don't feel bad, this is meant for all my moots and followers to see and yea pretty much! (＾ｖ＾)

#new years #happy new year #selever talks #love you all #your all amazing #please remember that

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shesgeeked1 · 1 year ago

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Pilot Kelson smut

(i haven’t seen any stories about pilot which is crazyyyy cause he was so fine in this movie!! so i made one.)

- pilot kelson played by jake gyllenhaal in Highway, 2002

- i tried to make it like the movie as much as i could so please don’t mind the cringy parts 😭

- contents: cheating, sex obviously, unprotected sex, caught. (idk😭)

- gif made by me 😊

• you and pilot have been besties since elementary but ever since he got with lucy you guys haven’t been close as usually.

you sigh as you look at the time. “you just clocked in” your coworker told you while laughing. “i know and i already wanna go” you said tiredly. u hated your job but the money was worth it. new costumers walked in and you grabbed your notebook and lazily went over to greet them. you knew this was gonna be a long day.

some hours in you hear the work phone ringing and decided to answer. “hey welcome to burger den, what can i get for you” you said politely. “um, well actually this is gonna sound weird but i’m actually calling to see if this girl works there that goes by y/n”

you waited awhile until you answered. “yea you’re talking to her, who is this?” you questioned. “it’s pilot i know we haven’t hung out in awhile but i was wondering if we could catch up maybe after work” he said. you were happy to hear from him again and wanted to see him as badly as he did.

“i wish but i work late hours today pilot, i’m going straight to bed after i get off” you told him. “then i’ll come see you during work, duh” he said with a chuckle. “wouldn’t lucy have a fit?” you said sarcastically. you didn’t like her one bit. “lucy doesn’t have to know anything, plus it’s not like we’re doing anything.” he said.

“fine, see you soon” you told him while hanging up quickly to get back to work. soon later you see 2 people walk in. it was a girl that had a bikini for a top with a long brown coat and bell bottom jeans, next to her you see your friend jack. you went over and hugged him.

“ms. untouchable” jack said while hugging you. “and the god of fuck” you told him. “you know it” he said. “how long has it been, like 5 years?” you asked. “gold star y/n!” he said while touching your forehead. “and who’s this?” you asked jack. “this is our friend cassie, cassie this is my childhood friend y/n” he introduced you both.

“the god of what now?” cassie asked “of fuc-“ you began. “it’s a long story that’ll i’ll tell you about later” jack stuttered as he covered your mouth. “ohh you haven’t told her yet?” you said as you moved his hand. -you’re not helping- jack mouthed to you. -my bad- you mouthed back.

“noted but you’re very beautiful” the girl told you. you paused as you didn’t take compliments well. “thanks, you’re gorgeous as well” you told her while blushing. “okay can we quit the flirting lesbians?” you heard someone say. you turned to find the spiked haired friend you’ve been missing since forever.

“pi!” you said while going in for a big hug. he looked nice with his button up collared shirt with some brown jeans and this dumb loud ass colored visor. “damn how long has it been” you asked. “too long, i missed you a lot” he confessed. “i did too” you said as well. it was your break anyways so you went and got food for you both.

“damn she starving you?” you questioned as pilot was eating like there was no tomorrow. “maybe” he chuckled. you both talked until you finished eating. “that was good” he said as he rubbed his belly “yea i can tell” you giggled. “wanna-“ he began. “wanna what?” you questioned “wanna smoke like we use to do back then?”

you gave pilot a blank stare. “pilot i am at work if i come my high ass back in here i’m not gonna wanna do shit” you told him. “man cmon what happen to the old y/n? you scary now?” he teased you. “never” you said as you got up and pulled him along with you. “y/n, where you going? your break ends in like 5” your co worker whispered to you. “just tell the manager i’m shitting or something”

you said while walking out. “shitting?” pilot said while laughing. “yea he’s a pain in my ass anyways.” you responded. he then lead you to the car and started lighting up. after sometime of passing it back and forth it started to kick in. “you know i really missed you and im sorry for cutting you off with no explanation” he confessed.

“yea, you’re still a dickhead for that” you said. “i know but lucy made me do it and i didn’t wanna make her feel any type of way” he said. “it must be good then” you joked. “tbh it’s not, she doesn’t satisfy me at all” he said. “then why u still with her?” you asked “cause i don’t wanna be mean yk”

that’s what you admired about pilot even though he was cheater and a liar he was always nice and caring no matter what. “and no matter how many girls i find to fill in that void i never succeed” he confessed “damn must suck” you told him. “yea, can i be honest” he asked “sure” you said. “ you remember that time when we macked?”

he asked. “yes pilot” you said while rolling your eyes. “what?, don’t act like you weren’t into it” he laughed. “i don’t know what you’re talking about pi” you joked with him. “you sure? cause i remember you saying how you couldn’t wait to feel me in you“ he said while staring into your eyes. “what does this have to do with anything?” you questioned as you broke eye contact.

“seriously tho, you were the only girl i felt something with y/n” he told you. “same” you told him. you hated how good pilot made you feel but it’s wrong for him to treat lucy like that even if you didn’t like her. “but enough about me what about you?” he asked putting the attention on you. “what about me?” you repeated “yea, you still haven’t been touched?” he joked.

“yea” you answered. “damn, life without dick” he said while turning his head to you. you both started bursting out laughing. you took a moment back to think how you really missed pilot. you were admiring him for awhile and started seeing how good he looked. you tried to shoo off these feelings blaming it on the weed.

you didn’t realize that pilot was doing the same as your faces just inches apart. you then kissed him but regretted it shortly after. “shit, i’m sorry” you apologized. pilot grabbed your face going in for another which caught you off guard.

while still making out, pilot pulled you ontop of him cranking the seat back. you started to feel him grow under you. “pilot this is wrong” you said in between kisses. “you sure? cause you seem to be enjoying yourself” he told you as he took one hand under your dress to feel your wet panties.

you moaned at his touch as you felt embarrassed at how wet he made you. “pi, what about lucy” you whined. “she doesn’t have to know” he whispered to you. these words made you wetter as you loved the thrill of doings things you weren’t supposed to. he then stuck his hands in your panties and rubbed around your clit.

you tried to hold back your moans but pilot noticed and began rubbing your clit. “fuck-“ you moaned at the sudden wave of pleasure. “you like that” pilot whispered into your ear. you didn’t want pilot to know how much power he had over you so u didn’t respond. he then inserted 2 fingers into you without warning.

you let out a loud moan as you felt him already touching your gspot. “what about now” he asked again. you were still stubborn and wouldn’t say a word no matter what. he then began to go faster and faster making you closer to reaching your high. “not yet y/n, pi needs a little something too” he said as he took his fingers out.

you then got on your knees perfectly fitting under the steering wheel while watching pilot slowly unzip his pants. you grew impatient as you finished it for him, pulling down his boxers as-well. you palmed him slowly hearing his breathe become shaky.

you looked into his needy eyes as he watched your every movement. you then took him in your mouth without warning. “shit” pilot groaned at the sudden pleasure. you started to bob your head up and down while stroking him at the same time. “damn, slow down” pilot stuttered out.

you went even faster driving pilot closer and closer to his high. “fuckkkk” pilot drug out as he grabbed onto your hair realizing himself into your throat. you swallowed making sure not to miss a single drop. “lucy never made you do that?” you teased him. “never” he breathed out heavy.

you got back into your seat and pilot jumped to the back. you stared at him blankly. “what?” he asked cluelessly. “you’re not getting none” you told him. “so you think you can make me bust a nut like that and get nothing in return? yea you’re crazy” he said as he pulled you to the back with him.

he sat you perfectly on top of him slowly moving you back and forth seducing you. you couldn’t help but move your hips making yourself crave for him even more. “i promise you won’t regret it” he said into your ear. pilot knew exactly what he was doing and it worked. you slid your panties to the side exposing your soaking wet pussy grinding so slowly onto him.

“want me to fuck you?” pilot asked while looking into your eyes. you turned away not answering. “hm?” pilot said while teasing your entrance with his tip. “no-“ you moaned “your pussy is telling me otherwise” pi whispered to you. you couldn’t keep the act up anymore so you gave in.

“just fuck me” you whined. with this he slowly slid himself into you as you took him all. “mm yess” you moaned as he felt so good inside of you. “bounce that shit” he said and you did as you were told. the car was now filled with the sound of skin slapping against eachother. “just like that pretty”

pilot moaned loudly. this turned you on even more as you went harder. pilot threw his head back biting his lip trying not to be a moaning mess. “your dick feels so good” you praised him. this drove him crazy and at this point the car began to bounce. you felt him harden up in you and you slowed down.

“don’t be a tease y/n” pilot groaned as he slapped your butt. you hissed at the pain but it felt so good mixed with the pleasure. you started bouncing again driving pilot closer to cumming. you then got off and bent over wanting him to fuck you crazy.

“please pilot? drive me crazy” you said seducing him. pilot was frustrated that you gave him blue balls so he slid into you without warning. “wait” you screamed as he pounded so deep into you hitting your cervix each time. “take it” he groaned. you were such a moaning mess.

“harderrr” you screamed. with this pilot put your head into the seat fucking you senseless. “never knew you were such a slut y/n” pilot laughed breathlessly. you both were sweating like pigs and pilot loved it. “you still untouchable baby?” pilot asked you. not a single sound came out of your mouth.

you were too dick filled. pilot then pulled you by your hair making your back touch his chest. “i said are you still untouchable?” he moaned into your ear “nooo” you screamed as you were getting so close. “louder baby” he grunted. “fuckkk” you moaned out releasing all over pilot.

pilot kept going sending you into overdrive. you threw your hand back, pushing him off but he grabbed your arm slamming it on your back. “its too much” you cried out. pilot didn’t care, he kept pounding until he grew sloppy releasing all over your back but before you two could even get up someone knocked on the window.

you both looked up in unison covering your bodies. “a little privacy jack” pilot told him “shit, sorry pi” jack said while turning around giving you both time clean up and get dressed. after you finished you got back into the passenger seat and jack and cassie got into the car. it was an awkward silence that fell onto the four of you.

“so” cassie started. “untouchable” jack said under his breath. pilot and cassie bursted out laughing as you grew embarrassed. “haha very funny” you rolled your eyes. “my bad ms. UNtouchable” pilot said while poking your arm. “shutup and drive” you told him while giggling.

cue shutup and drive by rihanna- 😎

(i feel like that is such his song)

hope you all liked this !!!!!

#jake gyllenhaal #smut #highway #pilot kelson x reader #fanfic #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal x reader #pilot kelson

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year ago

Note

I’m loving so much the new disowned verse omg, it is so good, you are a genius.

But I’m curious, how did reader and jason met?

The apartment was in a cracker box of a building with thin walls. His neighbors were a young couple that fought about money 25/8 and an elderly 'Nam Vet who liked his porno but- he could cope.

It was different than Gotham. There weren't constant gunshots. And that was weird. But. He knew better than to think his PI license wouldn't make him some money. Even out in the sticks. There was always a contentious divorce. There was always something not quite right. Cops in over their heads.

And he'd have down time. He could read. Work on his bike. Fuck. Maybe even actually go see a movie... Sure. He knew eventually he'd get bored but. For now, he was looking forward to it.

He shut the door and locked it behind him, frowning just slightly and making a note to get a better lock while he was out. He doubted he could find anything super great in town- he'd probably have to order something but. He'd passed a hardware store in town so... it might be worth checking out. If he made friends with the old guy that probably ran it he could probably get some special orders if he needed it.

So he set off that direction, wandering on foot down the sidewalks and taking note of the other houses. It was the middle of the afternoon. And the lunch whistles at the old factory still sounded at nood and then 30 minutes later. Tucked away from the tree-lined main drag, the houses back here varied from run down to better homes and gardens.

That tracked.

They got better closer to the front. The older show homes outweighed the eyesores. American primitive lawn decor. A surprising number of pineapples- and he snorted, wondering if it had come from a big box store or if it was a signal. Or both.

Still.

By the time he made it to the hardware store, he was reasonably certain he could stay busy. All was not as Leave it to Beaver as the Town Council would have you believe. And the first place he was gonna leave a flyer was in the beauty shop. Those old biddies HAD to have some shit to stir up.

He shouldered the door open and a bell, an actual bell, chimed. And he smiled a little taking a deep breath. The smell of dust, tools, and old well-maintained wood hit his nose and he exhaled. Definitely not going to find any high tech locks here. But, he had a soft spot for independent shops.

"Be with you in a minute!"

The voice made him jump. Not the gruff voice of a grumpy old fuck he expected. And it made him search of the source. Curious. "No worries," he said, walking a little farther towards where he'd heard it. Finding a young woman on a ladder stocking some boxes of bolts on a shelf. A pink canvas gardening apron tied around her hips to hold more boxes. "You got door locks?" he asked.

"Aisle 5 next to the paver catalogs," you tell him, steadying yourself so you can turn and glance down at him.

"Perfect," he said, "Thanks."

"Mhm, let me know if you need anything else," you tell him.

Jason paused and looked around, "Think you can put a tool box together for me I just moved and-"

"Ah, yeah. One Bachelor special," you tell him," Jumping down from the ladder, "I think I can get you fixed up. At least enough to get you started. You'll be smashing your thumbs in no time."

"Got a first aid kit too?"

"Right up at the counter," you snort. "But if you want anything special, you gotta see Adam at the Pharmacy. Mine are pretty basic."

"I can deal with basic- at least until you sell me a band saw-"

"Oh lord."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #disowned!verse

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megangovier · 1 year ago

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The Night Walker

a/n: for you @toxicanonymity thank you for all that you do🥺🫶🏻

Wc: 934

Pairing: Dark! Michael x sub! fem reader

Summary: You're walking through the alleyway at night, turning a corner a sharp pain shoots up your neck and knocks you out.

Warning: 18+ only // drugging // handcuffs // Fdom - Fsub // choking // tied up // dub-con // Msub - Mdom // P in V // multiple cream pies // cheating // glove kink // fingering // kidnapped // masked man // pussy eating // spit kink // degradation // slapping // BJ // praising // riding // doggystyle // daddy! Kink //MDNI

All fictitious ♥️

It's currently 11:30pm and you're strolling through the streets, tears rolling down your face and anger boiling up in your system. Work has been so stressful; you couldn't get a five-minute break. The boyfriend now ex didn't help with contacting multiple women behind your back, you were together for 6 months and that's how he treated you, wishing you just disappeared into thin air and just be left alone for a lifetime. You were 3 blocks from your house heading inside an alleyway, turning a corner that's when a sharp pain shot up your neck, feeling drowsy you fell into someone's strong arms. Lifting you up bridal style, heavy footsteps in the distance a sound of a vehicle door opens, and darkness grows over.

1 hour later..

Head full of stinging hornets, pain behind the eye's groans left your lips. Trying to move you couldn't, hands were cuffed to the bars of the bed, feet were tied with silk, eyes widening with fear. Looking around there wasn't much, just a few things here and there nothing worth using to release yourself from the handcuffs. Wriggling around on the bed, trying to shake free from the cuffs nothing worked, heavy footsteps pounded on the creaking floorboards of the staircase pretending to fall asleep he opened up the door and closed it. Walking towards you, a grin appeared on his face. He knew you were pretending to be asleep, so he slowly ran his fingers up your heated thighs.

A soft moan escaped your lips, red faced and eyes opening you looked at your kidnaper, he was wearing a white mask, white shirt and black latex gloves that your eyes fell onto. They looked so good on him, the way the veins showed on his forearms and the tattoo on his wrist it was just so attractive to stare at, and he knew you were getting off on this. Just by how wet your pussy was getting and the way your body reacts to his touches, your body shouldn't be acting this way around a man you don't know or never met. You were becoming a whiny mess under his fingers, pumping faster into your wet cunt noises echoed into the walls, a growl left his throat.

Releasing your hands and feet from restraints, Michael pulled your thighs closer to him, his forming bulge grinding against the pillow he slid between himself and the bed. Pulling his mask up, he spitted onto your already wet cunt making it clench around air "fuck, look at you slut, already wet for me, how disgusting and pathetic of you" a whine left your lips. You've never felt like this before, not even with your now ex-boyfriend, he's never made you feel this good, the way Michael is sucking and nibbling your clit or the way he's curling his gloved fingers inside you reaching that sensitive spot of yours. Toes curling and eyes rolling you were in ecstasy; you were so close.

"Michael. I'm going to - " mouth opened, saliva dripping out the corner of your mouth, eyes closed and legs shaking, your body convulsed into an out of body orgasm. Panting and sweat dripping from your face Michael didn't give you time to recover he slid his hand around your throat and slammed his cock into your mouth "oh god, you're so tight, good fucking girl, take it all till your jaw locks" a gurgle moan left your throat causing Michael to groan "who's my good little cum slut, oh those birthing hips of yours, I need to fill you up with my hot seed" you needed him inside you NOW! your jaw was starting to hurt, and you wanted him to breed the fuck outta you.

Removing his cock out your throat, he lied on the bed and you hovering over him "It's so big, will it fit?" a growl left his throat "I'll make it fit, if I have too" taking his cock in your hand, you tease him a bit with sliding it over your warm pussy "don't tease me! fuck me alrea-" eyes rolling back, grabbing your hips roughly skin slapping and balls deep a groan left your lips. "See you can take it all, I knew you could slut, now put your hands on my chest and fuck me harder, like your life depended on it". Doing what he told you, his fingers digging into your sides "good girl". A hand slid around his throat, fingers slightly squeezing the sides of it "just like that" his hand wrapped around your wrist, his eyes darkened on yours.

"Oh god, please choke me harder" doing as he says Michael's cock was throbbing inside you "going to cum huh, come inside me daddy" aura changed inside him, flipping you over on your hands and knees pounding you from behind "say that again, I dare you!" a smirk fell onto your lips "cum inside me daddy" growls and chest heaving he pushed you down into the mattress, your head in the pillow "oh yes, just like that daddy, fuck me like your personal fleshlight, like I'm your filthy Porn star". Michael was so close; you wanted your stomach to swell with his babies "I'm so close slut, now I want you to cum with me. In 5. "that's it, you're doing so well" 4. "you're so pretty, you can do this 3. "Such a pretty girl, so drunk on my cock" 2. "Atta girl" 1. "Cum for me Now princess" legs shaking, eyes rolling at the back of your head you came all over his cock. "Good girl"

#michael audrey myers #Dark! Michael x sub! fem reader #michael myers halloween #michael myers smut #michael myers x reader #michael myers fanfic #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher movies #slasher smut #michael myers #slasher community #slasher fanfiction #slasher fucker #slasher x reader #megangovier22

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alexanderwales · 8 months ago

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You go to find a recipe for apple pie, but there's the now-customary blurb about how it was passed down through generations or wrapped up in memories of fall harvest, and you scroll past, only to realize that the page is chugging slightly when you hit the bottom, and it keeps loading more and more backstory for this apple pie, along with images showing you what it's like, and personal details of the author you don't care about. And it dawns on you slowly that there is no recipe, it's just infinite backstory.

~~~~

So ... this wouldn't actually be that hard to implement with an API call to an LLM, and the better way to do it would be to generate it all ahead of time and just skip the API call, implementing the "loading" via some kind of script that doesn't consume much resources. You could similarly generate a hundred images of apple pies and have those load in as the user scrolls.

But I just don't think the gag is good enough unless there's something else there, some kind of progression within the "story" itself, a coherent weaving of characters and themes. If you actually sat down to read the whole thing, you might get invested in it, and when the long string of interwoven anecdotes brought back up Uncle Herbert, you would say "oh man, what folksy wisdom is he going to have this time".

So anyway, that's the gag, it'll just take enormous progress in artificial intelligence to work, and then not be worth it because it's funnier in concept than in execution.

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cheesycatz · 4 months ago

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Worm in the Apple is at 200k words now! Also, happy Pi day.

HE'S FINALLY FREE YIPPEE *non-biodegradable confetti*

Essay I just wrote 👇

Spamton’s goal since the very beginning was freedom. More specifically, the freedom to go where he pleases, do what he wants, and interact with the world without the constant fear of being killed. He initially sought to gain freedom by somehow overcoming the antivirus forces and repopulating his species, destroying the wretched city he was trapped in and controlling what remained. His disguise wasn’t just a way to blend in, but a way to infiltrate and gain the power he needed to enact his plan. But, he became very distracted by the addisons before he could get very far. They unknowingly taught him empathy, something different from the cold apathy and spite that normally fueled him. No matter how much he yelled and threatened them after his true identity was revealed, Spamton blamed himself for becoming too attached to the fake life of his puppet. He knew they never loved him, but the prospect of pretending they did was as alluring as a moth to a flame. He now saw every interaction with the addisons as a business transaction; he would only hold worth if he could hold up his end of the deal. His old motivations surged stronger than ever. With less than a second thought, he stalked Kris through the entire city, cornered them in the mansion basement, and dedicated every last scrap of energy he had to killing them. It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. Whether Spamton died with the rest of his species or clung to life, the outcome was the same. Nothing. He was now a ghost, still stubbornly clinging to the mortal plane because he didn’t know what other choice he had. A parasite can’t live without its host, no matter how much it hurts them. After all this time, his teeth were still latched into the addisons, and he kept trying to pull away even if he knew he’d rip out flesh in the process. But, they’d grown tired of this constant struggle. They cut through every mask he hid behind, prying the truth out. Under all of his vengeful fantasies, what he truly desired was to be loved. A desire the addisons had introduced him to. A desire he finally understood. The teeth finally let go. He is so very tired, but his life was finally crawling back up. Yet, while he was no longer alone, he was still suffering. They knew how he still longed for freedom, and they’d do whatever they needed to fight for it. In the end, the bonds he had formed with them were all the evidence they needed to grant him freedom. It was enough. He was enough. Spamton finally learned what it meant to be loved.

don't worry about the confetti being non-biodegradable wormton ate all of it

#spamton #spamton fanart #wormton au #cheesycatz art posts #cheesycatz text posts #I want to hold his little three clawed hands and tell him everything will be okay #ignoring the attempted murder your honor he's a sad little guy

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undersugarnights · 3 months ago

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As We Cross The Empty Skies

✦ MDNI — 18+ Only ✦

✧ pairing: luke hemmings x reader

✧ summary: set in the Fourth Wing universe (spoiler-free): in your second year at basgiath war college, the pressure is higher than ever. with increased responsibilities and your boyfriend now stationed at a distant outpost post-graduation, missing him becomes a constant ache—until he suddenly appears in your room out of thin air. literally.

✧ warnings: handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, p in v sex, cream pies (in classic bee fashion, i know)

✧ word count: 6.2k

✧ title: rosemary — by Deftones (again, in classic kale fashion)

✧ author’s note: okay so not super long ago (aha i actually have no idea how long ago, i’m not good at keeping track of time i’m sorry) i posted a poll asking if any of you would be interested in a Fourth Wing one-shot with one of the 5sos guys and a surprising amount of people said yes. i tried to make it so that anyone could read this, regardless of whether or not you’ve actually read The Empyrean series by rebecca yarros. there are some references to the story, but nothing important, and definitely no spoilers. so yeah, this is me humbly asking you to give this a shot even if you haven’t read Fourth Wing. ok thank you.

AS ALWAYS TY TO MY THREE POOKIES WHO READ THIS AND GAVE FEEDBACK (yk who you are) ILY ALL MUAH MUAH. also, there is SO much lore attached to this little universe i created that i could theoretically write a whole fic. but i won’t. or will i?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The ache in your limbs was the kind you’d grown far too familiar with in your two years at Basgiath. Each step felt like a negotiation your body wasn’t particularly eager to honor. Putting one foot in front of the other was more effort than it should’ve been.

You lifted a trembling hand to rub at your eyes, barely registering the stone walls of the corridor as you trudged toward your room. Your flight jacket hung half-unbuttoned, throat raw from barking at first-years who got too cocky after bonding—false confidence practically bleeding off them in waves.

All you could think about was collapsing into your bed and staying there until Sylvaraith—your sharp-tongued, obsessively punctual, green dagger tail—roused you with some unimpressed remark, her voice slicing through your dreams like the edge of a blade.

Not for the first time, you questioned whether the promotion to squad leader had been worth it. Being a first-year was brutal, yes—but being responsible for a handful of them? That was a different kind of hell. Half your squad hadn’t even made it to Threshing.

They’d died before they had the chance to bond. Before they ever became riders.

You shoved the thought aside, brushing off the weight of it like ash from your jacket, and pushed open the door to your room. You willed your aching feet to carry you the last few steps to your bed—it was the least they could do after the day you’d had.

But something was off.

The moment you stepped inside, you felt it. The air was too warm, too still—like it had already been breathed in. The kind of heat that lingered after someone had been there too long.

Or maybe… was still there.

Your eyes swept the room—bed neatly made, armoire in its usual place, desk cluttered with pens and paper scrawled in your handwriting. Notes from every class, every lecture, every strategy session. Nothing out of place. Even your bow and quiver were right where they should be, leaning against the wall beside your bed, poised for quick access.

You nearly convinced yourself it was all in your head—just the paranoia that came with watching not only your own back, but those of the reckless first-years under your command.

Then the breeze shifted.

A soft spring draft rustled the curtains, brushing loose strands of hair into your face. You reached to push them back—only to freeze as a different hand did it for you. A touch that wasn’t yours. Gentle. Real.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up.

Adrenaline surged as you slammed your weight forward, pinning the figure to the wall with a grunt. In the same breath, your free hand slid the dagger from its sheath along your forearm, pressing cold steel to suddenly visible skin.

A startled yelp burst from a pair of rose-tinted lips, followed by a muffled oof as his back hit the stone wall.

Blue eyes blinked open, wide with disbelief. Wisps of blond curls tumbled into them as he stared at you like you were the one who’d broken into his room.

Luke.

Now it was your turn to yelp. The dagger slipped from your grasp, clattering to the stone floor as you stumbled back, adrenaline giving way to stunned realization.

Luke stood before you—tall, beautiful, chest still rising with quick breaths. His hands were raised in mock surrender, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips as you scrambled to make sense of the impossible.

Luke, who was stationed in Samara.

Luke, who graduated last year.

Luke, who you’d been missing so desperately it hurt—who you hadn’t seen in months outside of ink on parchment—was here. Here.

“What in Amari’s name made you think it was a good fucking idea to use your invisibility signet—” your eyes flared as you took in an exasperated breath. “To surprise me? I could’ve slit your throat!”

Luke tilted his head, grin widening into something far too smug. “That’s it?” he said, voice laced with maddening amusement. “No ‘Luke Hemmings, love of my life, my dear boyfriend, how kind of you to come surprise me’?”

Your pacing faltered.

Your gaze locked onto his—those too-blue eyes, the boyish smile he never fully outgrew. He was here. Really here.

And for a moment, all you could do was stare.

It took only a few breaths before the last thread of annoyance unraveled and slipped away. You crossed the room in a few quick strides. “Gods,” you exhaled, arms looping around his neck as you pulled him down into a fierce embrace, hoping it would somehow communicate just how much relief was crashing through your chest.

Luke didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breath warm against your skin as he inhaled deeply—like he was trying to memorize you. Maybe he was.

You leaned back just enough to take him in, your hands rising to cup his face.

He was still him. Blond stubble dusted his jaw—clearly hadn’t had time to shave—his bright blue eyes were just as cutting and soft as you remembered, and that familiar scar still carved its path from the corner of his mouth.

As far as dragon-bonding scars went, Varethion had been merciful. Others weren’t so lucky.

But it wasn’t the scar that made your stomach twist.

It was the bruises. Purpled shadows along his cheekbone, a faint cut on his lip, fading marks near his jaw. Nothing swollen, nothing broken—but still, he looked like he’d been in a fight.

Your thumb brushed his split bottom lip without thinking. He shivered, and you filed that away for later.

“What happened to you?”

Luke grinned, the corner of his mouth tugging up like this was just another story. “Had to defend my leave,” he said with a shrug, as if it were obvious. “Had a little time, wanted to see my girl, and I’ll be damned if some dick was gonna take that from me just to get blackout drunk.”

You blinked, pulling back just enough to take in the smug line of his shoulders. “You fought someone over leave?”

Luke rolled his eyes and gently tilted your chin up until your gaze locked with his. “I won, actually,” he said with a smirk, the dimple in his cheek making your knees go a little weak.

“Besides, it’s nothing serious. Happens all the time in Samara. You want time off? You fight for it. Already have it? You defend it. It’s how we keep things… interesting.”

You leveled him with an unimpressed stare. “So you’re telling me,” you began slowly, letting the sheer absurdity of it settle on your tongue, “that in the most brutal, cutthroat outpost we have… you lot spend your time beating the shit out of each other for time off?”

Luke nodded, far too pleased with himself. “Exactly.”

You let out an incredulous laugh, your head dropping forward onto Luke’s chest as you reached for your connection with Sylvaraith. “Why didn’t you tell me Varethion was flying back?”

The sharp huff you got in response was answer enough—but Sylvaraith never missed a chance to be a menace. “Maybe I just wanted to see what would happen if the invisible one caught you off guard. He is just a measly boy, after all. I suppose I was doing what you would call pest control.”

“Leave him alone,” you scolded, though your amusement was evident. You slammed your mental shields into place before she could say something truly scarring—especially when you were, potentially, minutes away from being bent over your desk. Or your bed. Or the floor.

You weren’t picky.

Luke was still grinning like an idiot, unzipping his flight jacket to reveal a single, slightly wilted rose tucked inside. The look in his eyes was full of heat, yes—but there was something tender behind it, something a little shy.

You took the flower from him, twirling the brittle stem between your fingers.

“You’re so presumptuous,” you said, voice softer than you meant it to be.

Luke’s eyes flashed with something softer before he shrugged, reaching up to gently take your braid between his fingers. “You look tired.”

The teasing had vanished from his voice, replaced with quiet concern as he studied you, waiting.

A soft huff escaped your lips. You rubbed at your eye with your knuckle, suddenly all too aware of the exhaustion you’d been carrying. “War Games are coming up,” you murmured. “Turns out being squad leader is more than just barking orders for fun.”

Luke hummed in understanding, releasing your braid as his hand dropped. He took a slow step forward, then another—walking you back until the edge of your desk hit the backs of your thighs, and you sank down without protest.

“That’ll do it,” he said, tone gentling. “But if anyone can handle it, it’s you. You’re a badass, Y/N.”

You let out a small, tired laugh, shaking your head just as he moved to settle between your legs. “Highly doubt you mean that,” you muttered. “Ashton was a notoriously good squad leader. You just got lucky.”

Luke grinned and leaned in, poking your nose with one finger. “And Ashton’s your friend. Like calls to like, remember?”

Rolling your eyes, you took one of Luke’s hands in yours. They were the same familiar hands that had mapped every inch of your skin, patched up more bruises and scrapes than you could count. Big, calloused, beautiful.

“It’s not even just that,” you whispered, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “This year’s been a mess. Did you hear the General’s daughter is a first year now? Thank the gods that’s not my problem—it’s Aetos’.”

Luke let out a short laugh. “Does he still have that stick up his ass?”

You groaned. “Welded in there. He’s been trailing her around like some overgrown, brooding puppy. Whatever. Not my wing, not my problem.”

“Fair enough,” Luke grinned, leaning in until his forehead pressed against yours. “Sounds like I’ve missed a lot.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze with a smirk. “I could say the same thing.” Tilting your chin up slightly, you turned the attention on him. “Tell me, Lieutenant Hemmings—how’s life at Samara treating you?”

“You really get off on that new title, don’t you, Cadet Y/L/N?” Luke teased, cocking his head as his hands slid to your waist, fingers curling just enough to make your breath hitch. “But yeah… it’s fun. As fun as it can get out there, anyway. Ashton’s there—his company helps.”

You raised a brow, amused. “What’s he up to these days?”

Luke’s smile faltered for the briefest moment, his eyes darkening in a way you almost missed. His lips pressed into a thin line before he answered. “He’s being Ashton,” he said softly. “Setting things on fire accidentally, cracking jokes when he can. It’s… heavy, though.”

You hummed in quiet understanding, your hand sliding from his to reach up and tangle in his curls. Your fingers scratched lightly at his scalp, and his eyes fluttered shut with a pleased hum that hit you like a shot of warmth straight to your core.

“Good to know our former wingleader’s resorted to becoming a pyromaniac,” you murmured, smiling to yourself.

Luke cracked one eye open, his mouth twitching into a crooked grin. “No,” he said slowly. “Just a dumbass.”

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you asked gently, your eyes scanning the tension in his shoulders, the way the bruises beneath his eyes had deepened.

“I missed you,” Luke said quietly, his grip on your hips tightening like he was afraid you’d vanish. “Gods, I thought about you every single day—and night.”

A beat passed, and then he added, deadpan, “Do you have any idea how awkward it is to wake up humping your bed with Ashton looking at you like you’re some kind of depraved animal?”

You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief at Luke’s complete lack of shame. “Did he say anything?”

“I wish,” Luke grumbled. “He just looked at me with this mix of pity and disgust, like he was mourning the man I used to be. And don’t even get me started on sharing the bathing chambers with two other riders. It’s a sexually frustrating nightmare, I swear.”

You let out a giggle—an honest, unfiltered one that barely ever made an appearance unless Luke was involved. The version of you that existed with him wasn’t the same person who barked orders and trained cadets until their legs gave out.

“If it helps,” you said with a grin, “I’ve missed you, too. No bed humping, unfortunately, but the sentiment was there.”

Luke stilled, his arms tightening just a little around you as his gaze lifted to yours. His eyes softened, hopeful. “You missed me?”

You rolled your eyes and poked the dimple that appeared on his cheek. “Of course I missed you. Every day. Every night. There’s a first year—blond, blue-eyed—swear to the gods I turned around and ran when I first saw him. Thought I was seeing ghosts.”

“Wow,” Luke said, deadpan. “All it takes is some pretty boy with the same coloring and suddenly you’re having an existential crisis.”

You snorted, giving his shoulder a light punch. “Oh shut up. He was nowhere near emotionally tortured enough to be you.”

Luke grinned, unabashed. “Glad to hear my emotional shortcomings still do it for you.”

“A man as hot as you has to have some kind of flaw,” you said, sticking your tongue out at him playfully—though the warmth behind your words gave you away. “All that brooding gave you a jawline.”

Luke let out a surprised laugh. “Yeah, okay,” he said, leaning in until he was caging you in with both hands on either side of your desk. “And all that sass gave you an ass—”

“Watch it, Hemmings,” you warned, narrowing your eyes at him. “Takes a lot of legwork to ride a dragon. The sass is just a bonus.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed how much he loved it. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “Admit it,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell. “You missed more than my emotional damage and jawline.”

You hummed thoughtfully, biting your lip as anticipation curled low in your belly. “Maybe I missed some other things,” you whispered sweetly, voice laced with mischief. “Though the jawline is definitely in the top three.”

Luke’s hands skimmed up your thighs, the heat of his skin bleeding through your leathers. “What’s on the podium, then?”

His lips ghosted down your jawline, and your head tilted back in surrender. “Mmm… definitely your hands,” you breathed, shivering at the scrape of his teeth along your skin.

“What else?” he asked, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His gaze burned, the iridescent sky blue of his irises almost fully eclipsed by the inky blackness of his pupils.

You could’ve teased. You could’ve played coy.

But you were done playing.

You surged forward, closing the gap and catching his mouth with yours in a kiss that shattered the weeks, the miles, the ache of wanting him and not having him. Luke groaned—deep and desperate—as his lips parted against yours, his hands clutching at your thighs like he couldn’t get enough, like he might drown in you.

He kissed you like he needed you to breathe.

His hands traveled with intent, bold and reverent, tracing every familiar curve as they slid up to your waist. His tongue slipped past your lips, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver spiraling down your spine.

“I missed this,” he panted against your mouth, voice wrecked. “I missed you.”

Your fingers ran along the hard ridges of his shoulders, the fabric of his flight jacket frustratingly in the way. Too much between you. Way too much.

“Then do something about it,” you growled, nipping at his lower lip before sucking it into your mouth.

Luke whimpered—a beautiful, needy sound that sent a bolt of heat straight through you. Glad to know that hasn’t changed.

“Already on it,” he rasped, tugging off his flight jacket. You helped shove it past his shoulders, the leather falling to the floor in a careless heap.

Your own jacket followed, then his hands were under your shirt, tugging it up and over your head with the same frantic energy that fueled your kiss.

His mouth trailed to your neck, tongue tracing a long stripe up the column of your throat as you arched against him with a blissful sigh. You began to grind your hips slowly against his, feeling the pressure of his cock straining beneath his leathers. Still too many layers.

He groaned into your neck, fingers gripping your hips as you moved together, the friction sparking white-hot between you.

Your hands tangled in his curls, pulling in rhythm with every roll of your hips—

And then suddenly, he was gone.

Not gone gone. You could still feel him—his hands, his weight, his breath against your throat—but he had vanished from view. It had happened before, rare but never unwelcome. Still, it always startled you.

“Lu,” you breathed, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“Hmm?” came his distracted response, his teeth still scraping lightly along your neck

You let out an amused exhale—only for it to catch in your throat and turn into a sharp gasp as Luke’s mouth latched onto your pulse point.

“Baby,” you managed, breath hitching, “you’re invisible.”

The sensation of his lips vanished instantly, and just as quickly, he flickered back into view. His face was flushed, equal parts want and embarrassment, lips swollen from the intensity of your kiss.

“Sorry,” he said, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth. “It’s just been a while and—gods, that thing you do with your hips—”

You grabbed his chin, forcing his eyes to meet yours. “You’re so cute, you know that?” you murmured, punctuating it with another slow, deliberate roll of your hips that made him groan. “But fuck, I need to feel you. I need you naked. Now.”

Whatever trace of embarrassment he’d been holding on to vanished completely. Luke blinked once—and then the hunger hit. He tugged his shirt over his head in one swift motion, tossing it to the floor without care.

“Your wish is my command,” he said, voice already rough.

Your gaze raked over him hungrily, drinking in every new detail. He’d filled out even more at Samara—his torso was all sharp lines and ridges, muscle rippling under golden skin. The deep V leading into his pants was criminal. But it was the dragon relic that made your breath catch.

Varethion curled over his shoulder, the scaled scorpion tail arcing across his chest and wrapping protectively over his heart.

“Like what you see?” Luke asked, cocky again, carefully slipping the constricting band around your breasts and ribs.

Your smirk faded into something darker, needier, as his fingers trailed down your sternum, pausing to trace the outline of your relic—Sylvaraith midflight. Her wings spread beneath your breasts, tail coiling down to your navel in sleek, beautiful motion.

“Fuck,” Luke breathed. “I remember losing my mind the first time I saw this—after Threshing.”

You rolled your eyes, even as your skin flushed under his touch. “You were the first person to see it,” you reminded him. “I didn’t even see it until you peeled off my uniform back in your room. I was too busy losing my shit over finally getting to fuck you.”

Luke grinned, hands sliding up to cup your breasts. His thumbs circled your nipples, slow and deliberate, teasing until a soft, broken moan escaped your lips and your eyes fluttered shut.

“I was celebrating the fact that a dragon chose you,” he whispered, voice low and reverent against your skin. “That your name was not only worth remembering because you survived the worst—but because it was worth moaning.”

His fingers pinched lightly, drawing another gasp from you as your back arched into his touch.

“And the fact that your relic looks like something straight out of my fucking wet dreams?” He smirked, eyes flicking down to the mark across your chest. “Just a bonus.”

You smirked, fingers working deftly to undo the button of his leather pants. As your mouth found his again, your hand slipped beneath the waistband, tugging them down just enough for his cock to spring free—thick, hard, and already leaking.

Luke hissed as the cool air hit him, the sound sharp and needy. You instinctively wrapped your hand around him, and a moan tore from his throat as your wrist gave a slow flick, your thumb swiping over the head with practiced ease.

“Fuck, love,” he panted, eyes wide and locked on yours as he watched your hand move. The weight of him was familiar, grounding, and you could already feel the memory of the stretch flutter low in your core.

Slowly, your hand began to move, savoring the soft moan that slipped from Luke’s parted lips. His eyes fluttered shut, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. You felt his mouth trail open-mouthed kisses along the base of your throat, warm and desperate, while his free hand braced against the desk beside you.

The wet heat of his lips sent sparks of electricity down your spine, each kiss lower and hungrier. He nipped at your neck, just enough to make you shiver, and you tilted your head back, offering more.

His breathing turned ragged as you twisted your wrist expertly, your thumb swiping over the slick head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he gasped, voice breaking. “If you keep this up, it’ll be over before I even think about being inside you.”

You bit your lip, eyes dark with mischief. “Maybe I just like teasing you.” Your voice was just as wrecked as his—low, breathless, aching. Then, with a burst of boldness, you let him go.

Luke barely had time to let out a confused noise before you were pushing him back into the chair he’d kicked away from the table.

He blinked up at you, dazed and wrecked, as you shakily slid off the desk. “Y/N, why the hell did you stop?” His voice was rough, laced with frustration, the needy whine in it sending heat pooling low in your belly.

But you didn’t answer. There was no need. You dropped to your knees between his spread legs, eyes gleaming with challenge.

And his breath caught in his throat.

“Because I missed the way you taste,” you murmured, your hands gliding slowly up his thighs, eyes locked on his like a challenge.

Luke’s chest heaved, his breathing ragged as his fingers curled tight around the armrests. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the base of his cock, watching with satisfaction as he twitched under your touch.

You kissed your way up his length, deliberately messy, almost sinful. Your tongue flicked out to trace the vein pulsing along the underside, and Luke’s head fell back with a strangled moan that shot straight through you.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” he panted, voice cracking.

But the second your lips wrapped around him, taking him into your mouth, his complaint died in a groan that echoed off the walls—low, broken, and utterly wrecked.

He tasted like home. He felt like home. Your tongue circled the tip before you sank deeper, taking in as much of him as you could, while your hand worked what your mouth couldn’t reach.

“Fuck,” he growled, a shaky hand threading into your hair—not pulling, just holding, angling your face so he could watch. Watch the way your cheeks hollowed, the way you moved like you’d been made for this—for him.

And gods, he looked at you like you were divine.

His eyes were half-lidded and wild, soft, broken moans tumbling from his lips like a symphony of sin. You quickened your pace, savoring the way he hit the back of your throat with every movement, the taste of him flooding your senses.

“You look so beautiful on your knees,” he choked out, voice trembling but full of reverent awe. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Woke up hard as a fucking rock just dreaming of that mouth.”

You moaned at the image—the thought of Luke, half-asleep and desperate, rutting into the mattress with your name on his lips, chasing a dream that felt like you.

But before you could react, Luke pulled you off of him with a wet pop, your lips parted in confusion as you blinked up at him. Spit clung to your mouth, glistening on your chin, the ghost of him still heavy on your tongue.

“What—?”

The question died on your lips as he hauled you into his lap, positioning you over him with a need that stole your breath. He was still achingly hard, tip flushed and slick with spit and arousal, pressing insistently between your thighs.

“Need to fuck you,” he murmured, his mouth finding your collarbone, teeth scraping as his hands moved between your bodies.

His fingers slipped between your folds, collecting your wetness before dragging it back up. He groaned—a deep, broken sound that vibrated through your chest—and you found yourself grinding down against his hand, helpless to stop.

“You’re so ready for me, love,” he whispered, his tone dark with promise. A smirk tugged at his lips as two fingers slid inside you with practiced ease, curling just enough to make you gasp.

His fingers worked you open with the kind of expertise that only belonged to him. Your eyes were screwed shut as you began to grind against his hand, desperate for more. His thumb circled your clit with slow precision, while your hands gripped the desk behind you for support.

“Fuck, look at you,” he breathed, mouth parted in something that looked like awe. He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a torturously slow pace, his thumb adding just the right friction—each movement sending stars bursting behind your eyelids.

You couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. The only sound spilling from your lips was his name, soft and broken. “Luke—” you gasped. “Please, I need you.”

His fingers curled again, hitting that spot that made your legs tremble.

“What do you need, baby?” he asked, voice smug and too fucking pretty for the way he was ruining you.

“You,” the word tore from you on a moan, raw and desperate, your body already slick with sweat.

Slowly, Luke withdrew his fingers, and you whimpered at the loss.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. “Beg for me.”

“I need your cock,” you panted, watching as he wrapped a hand around himself and stroked lazily. Your breath caught when he leaned in, teasing your folds with the tip—slick, hard, and perfect.

You gasped, the sensation of Luke sliding the tip of his cock through your folds—coating himself in you after so long—was dizzying. You rocked your hips against him, desperate to end the torturous teasing he made you endure.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his breath ragged. “Is it because of my fingers, baby? Or because you were gagging on my cock so beautifully?”

You bit your lip, nodding through the haze. “And because—”

The words caught in your throat as he circled your clit with his tip, slow and deliberate. So close, but still so fucking far.

Luke leaned in, eyes dark as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Because what, love?”

“Because I fucking missed you.”

The second the words left your mouth, he thrust into you.

Your head fell back as a sharp gasp tore from your lips, the sudden stretch of him filling you completely making your whole body tighten with pleasure. Inch by thick, aching inch, he sank into you, until there was nothing else—just him and the way your body remembered him perfectly.

Luke let out a low, strangled groan, burying himself to the hilt as your walls clenched around him.

“Gods, you’re so tight… so perfect,” he murmured, the words barely more than a breath—lost in the sound of skin against skin, the shared moans slipping between you like confessions.

His hands came to rest on your thighs, which bracketed his on the chair. Slowly, they slid upward, fingers wrapping around your waist with a reverence that made your heart stutter. He didn’t move—just stayed buried inside you, savoring the closeness, the way your body fit around him like it had never forgotten.

“Luke,” you whispered, voice laced with need. The plea didn’t go unheard.

He exhaled softly, then lifted you slightly, giving you permission to move. You began to grind your hips slowly, adjusting to the stretch, finding your rhythm. It wasn’t long before your pace quickened, and he met you thrust for thrust, guiding you as you started to bounce in his lap.

Each movement grew more powerful, more desperate, and your hands clutched at his shoulders to keep from falling apart.

“Gods,” he groaned, voice rough and full of awe. “I forgot how good you feel. No dream could ever fucking compare.”

You dropped your forehead to his, each roll of your hips pulling sharp, broken breaths from his lips. His fingers dug into your hips, hard enough to leave bruises—you hoped they would. You wanted the reminder.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Lu,” you gasped.

“Y/N,” he growled, voice rough and wrecked, “look at me.”

Something in his tone made you obey instantly. You forced your gaze up to meet his—and what you saw nearly undid you. That beautiful blue, stormy and wide with longing, with love, made your chest ache in the best way.

You moved faster, chasing the edge, watching the way his eyes fluttered at the sensation.

“I missed this,” he whispered, like it was sacred. “Missed being inside you.”

His hips began to thrust up to meet yours, the pace growing urgent—desperate. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chest to his, and he responded by snapping his hips into you harder, deeper, like he couldn’t get close enough.

You bit his earlobe, earning a sharp hiss that shot straight to your core. The friction of his pelvis grinding against your clit had your head spinning, and when your nails raked down his back, your teeth sinking into the curve of his neck, a muffled moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Luke’s hands gripped your waist and pulled you flush against him, holding you there. His skin was slick with sweat, the hard ridges of his chest pressed tight against yours, anchoring you in the chaos of it all.

You didn’t even need to move anymore—he was doing everything. Fucking into you like his life, like his bloodline, depended on it. The sound of your bodies meeting echoed through the room—wet, filthy, loud—and you might’ve cared if Luke hadn’t soundproofed it just before he graduated.

Your body began to coil, pleasure licking at your skin and sinking into your bones. Each of his powerful thrusts made you tremble, made your vision blur, made your magic stir—quiet at first, then roaring.

A different kind of sensation bloomed beneath your ribs. Power surged through your veins, warming you from the inside out as his hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and circling it with reverence.

Your moans grew louder. Raw. Broken.

“Luke—” you gasped, panting into his neck, “I’m so close.”

The room was filled with the sound of your bodies—wet and sharp and rhythmic—drowning out every thought that wasn’t him.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathed, voice tight with his own unraveling. “Let me see how much you missed me.”

He thrusted up into you, hard, perfectly angled—and you shattered.

Your scream echoed through the room as pleasure detonated inside you, your magic exploding outward in wild pulses, crackling through the air, sweeping through the space with a force that would’ve scared you—if it wasn’t so euphoric.

Luke held you through it, grounding you even as your power stormed loose.

And he didn’t stop.

Vines had begun to curl up the legs of the chair you and Luke were tangled on, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not with him still inside you. Not with the scent of blooming flowers thick in the air, or the warm, pleasant burn of magic still pulsing through your veins.

Nothing could pull you from this moment.

Luke kept one arm locked tight around your waist, driving up into you with frantic, desperate thrusts as he chased his release. His other hand tangled in your hair—not to pull, just to hold. His mouth was everywhere, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone, the tops of your breasts—like he couldn’t decide which part of you he loved most.

“I’m close,” he groaned against your skin. “Where do you want me, baby?”

The answer was obvious to you. How could he even ask?

“Inside,” you gasped. “I want to feel you. All of it.”

Luke captured your lips with his, kissing you like he meant it—like he felt it—tongue slipping into your mouth as he thrust once more, deep and sure. You moaned into the kiss as his hips stilled and a guttural groan tore from his throat, spilling into you, warm and full.

His body trembled beneath you, lips going still as he rode out his high, but you didn’t stop. You cupped his face, kissed him deeper, slower, like you needed to seal the moment between your teeth.

Even limp and shaking, his arms stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close, like he never wanted to let go.

Eventually, the kiss softened—turning slow and tender, more mouths brushing than claiming. His hands rubbed lazy circles up and down your back, his breathing gradually returning to normal as yours fell in sync.

You pulled away slowly, your forehead resting against his as your fingers slid gently through his damp hair. Luke let out a quiet, pleased hum, leaning into your touch like he’d been waiting for it forever.

When his eyes fluttered open, they were bright—still a little dazed, pupils blown, cheeks flushed. He smiled, small and soft, but heartbreakingly beautiful.

His grip around your waist loosened, and one hand came up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, brushing gently where the braid had begun to unravel.

“Hi,” you whispered, soaking in the feeling of his calloused fingers tracing your cheek like it was sacred.

“Hi,” he whispered back.

For a moment, all you could do was look at each other. And then Luke’s gaze drifted past your shoulder, his lips curling into a lazy, satisfied smirk.

“Y/N,” he said, slow and amused. “Look.”

You turned, following his line of sight.

The room was covered in vines and flowers—wild, vibrant, chaotic—but your eyes landed on the desk. The flower. The one Luke had shown you—dried, brittle, long dead.

Now it was blooming.

Its petals were open and full, the soft edges tinged with pink like sunrise melting into dusk. Alive. Entirely different from the wilted thing it had been just hours ago.

Your eyes narrowed. “Told you, you were being presumptuous”

Luke tried to feign innocence, but the grin tugging at his lips gave him away.

You huffed a laugh, lightly swatting his shoulder. “What if I didn’t want to have sex?”

He grinned, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Then I’d have a dead flower and a depressingly long cold shower.”

“You are actually so pathetic. Did you know that?”

Luke’s grin only widened. “Pathetically yours, you mean?”

You snorted, shifting slightly—causing him to slip from inside you. Both of you hissed at the loss, but you eventually settled into his lap, draped across him, skin to skin, as if gravity had no say in where you belonged.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you muttered, feigning indifference.

He arched a brow, leveling you with a deeply unimpressed look. “Like me?” he asked, leaning in, eyes narrowing playfully. “After all that—after I helped you turn your room into a literal botanical orgasm—the best you can do is ‘like’?”

You pursed your lips in mock consideration, then grinned. “I tolerate you. Sometimes.”

Luke sagged dramatically in the chair. “Gods, woman,” he exhaled. “You’re impossible to please.”

You leaned in, both hands braced on his shoulders, lips brushing the shell of his ear as you murmured, “No. I’m really not.”

His breath caught, sharp and ragged, and your smirk deepened.

“All it takes,” you whispered, “is a pair of long fingers… and a deliciously skilled tongue.”

Luke didn’t hesitate.

In one sudden movement, he stood, sweeping you into his arms with a startled yelp as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He crossed the room in a few long strides, eyes dark with renewed purpose.

He laid you back on the bed like you were made of glass and fire, then hovered over you with wicked determination gleaming in his eyes.

“Lucky for you,” he rasped, lips brushing your inner thigh, “I happen to be starving.”

And without another word, he spread your thighs and devoured you like a man who meant it.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

yes, the blond student with the blue eyes is supposed liam mairi. that’s mostly inspired by the fact that i read his description as an attractive blond with blue eyes and immediately thought of luke. i’m ruined.

ANYWAY I HOWP YOU ENJOYED THIS!!!! this was definitely my lil guilty pleasure fic

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wihellib · 1 year ago

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WHB, Nightmare Passes, and Value

This is going to be a long post.

It would cost me $72.94 real life dollars if I wanted to possess Beel Bath. For that price I would get:

Solomon Seals: 300 (6 pulls)

Lesser (Red) Keys: 210 (7 ten pulls)

Greater (Gold) Keys: 250 (5 ten pulls)

Solomon’s Tears: 168 (Enough to Promote one character 4/4 times and another 3/4 times)

Pie Piece Choice Chest: 40 (Not enough to upgrade one character’s skill to level 5, which needs 60 pie pieces)

Pie Choice Chest: 50 (Not enough to upgrade one character’s skill to level 8, which needs 160 pies)

Devil Gummy Choice Chest: 10 (Easy to farm, so useless)

Beel Homescreen Buttons: 4 (My Devils, Text Messages, Secret Club, Dark Sanctuary)

Beel Bath Artifact: 2

Beel Bath Card: 1

*These numbers don’t include the free tier that anyone can get.

Now, if you want people to spend an amount of money on your game that’s comparable to the full price of a AAA game (good for many, many hours of fun) then you have to make it worth their while.

This is what I would change to the Nightmare Pass to improve its value:

The Items

Give 500 Solomon Seals (1 ten pull), since 6 pulls is such an odd number. Greater Keys have much less value than Lesser Keys, so, to compensate, it should be 300 Lesser Keys (10 ten pulls) and 100 Greater Keys (2 ten pulls).

They already give a good number of Solomon Seals, so it can be kept like that.

The entire pies system needs to be reworked. It’s absurd how much it costs to upgrade character skills, especially when we have no way of farming pies. So, I’m just going to ignore this part, and just say ‘Do Better’.

The Gummies have extremely low value since it’s so easy for us to farm them, so the Gummy Chests needs to be removed from the Pass and replaced with something else. There are a lot of options, like nightmare pancakes, or advanced candy choice chests, etc.

In regards to the Homescreen buttons, I think that’s a great, unique way to add value to the Pass. However, this is only the case when they are unique buttons. For this Pass, the buttons you get are just of normal Beel, they are not his Bath versions. The problem is you can get all other normal King versions in the Nightmare Pancake shop. This is not fair. Full stop. It punishes Beel fans for no reason. So, the Pass should give unique versions of the buttons instead, and normal Beel buttons should be in the nightmare pancake shop.

You should also get a unique frame.

The L Card

Now, onto the star of the show, the L card. You have to do something to set these cards apart from the others. Give me a reason to spend money on this card when I can get the others for free.

The easiest thing to do is to always make the cards explicit. The full cock and balls and oh look there’s a butthole. Make them obscene. This obviously wouldn’t work for mobile app users, but PrettyBusy should be pushing more and more people over to EroLabs anyways. They need to figure out a way for people to transfer their accounts and then go all in on EroLabs so they don’t have to worry about censorship.

Something that would add huge value to the nightmare passes is if the L card’s story was voiced. Not fully voiced, the side characters wouldn’t be, just the main guy on the card would be voiced. I understand getting voice acting is expensive. But this wouldn’t have to be every card on the pass and when it was, they could increase the price a little bit.

Also the L card should be fully evolved if you buy it. Currently you can only buy the card once and have no way of getting more copies to evolve it. So an easy way to add value to the card is to have it fully evolved (i.e. more powerful).

The Character On The Card

Moving on to which characters should be featured on the nightmare pass. I am adamant that none of the Kings should be on a nightmare pass ever.

The main love interests of WHB are the 7 Demon Kings. The others get a sex scene in the main story and maybe some flirty texts/interactions, but that’s it. I really don’t think any of the main love interests of a game should be completely paywalled.

The nightmare pass works best and is the most fair when it’s a once-in-a-while thing (every 3-4 months) and is used to showcase characters that are not the main love interests, like Gabriel and Juno.

This way also has more potential for making money. It’s like, “Hey, I know how much you love Andrealphus or Minhyeok, and you’re sad you’ll only get one sex scene with them and no fancy art, but what if we told you that you could… if you buy these nightmare passes.” People would jump at that way more than a non-explicit card of Beel that’s very similar to other cards that you can get for free. The nightmare pass is devalued in this case.

Finale

So far PrettyBusy hasn’t said anything about the controversy surrounding the nightmare pass. There is a strong chance that they will ignore it completely. So, please keep the pressure up and keep sending them emails (be professional, not bullies) expressing your displeasure with the current state of WHB.

#what in hell is bad #whb #what in “hell” is bad?#critique #prettybusy what in hell is bad #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#whb game features #whb beelzebub

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franki-lew-yo · 2 years ago

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Chicken Run 2 things I did really like:

It's a fun and small nod to irl chicken farming, but I like that the pen the chickens are kept in in Funtime Farms is an indoor pen. That's how modern poultry gets by on the "free range" excuse.

Genuinely appreciate how much and how well this movie states Ginger's awesomeness through Rocky or other people. It's not too distracting and it's earned. She is the iron chicken and it's a good way to hype up the character without telling you rather than showing you. God. I love Ginger.

Nick and Fetcher needed more scenes with Molly because them being attached and joining in just to save their "niece" is adorable and a great expanse on their characters. Good.

Rocky was a great dad and way better written than the original but still very much Rocky. That's how you do a 'wrote a potentially problematic love interest 20 years ago now here's them updated for modern ''wokeness' standards,' PIXAR. I liked him being both a hinderence and an accessory to Ginger. Shows why and what I like about them as a couple. I especially like how, without even showing you, that Rocky was the one to tell Molly what she needed to know but did not expand on just how traumatized Ginger really is from her ordeal. That's both in character and a believable thing a parent would do when their kid is simply prodding about their past, rather than directly asking their parent. Also, given it's Rocky and he already didn't have a perfect sitch going on as a circus animal, he probably didn't hype it up as perfect but more or less leaned into how adventurous he and Ginger were.

Ginger and Molly and their whole plot of not understanding each other was fine. Ginger being an overprotective parent who never wants to leave the island now and is enforcing her flock never to leave works better here than in contrived direct to video movies like Lion King 2 or Little Mermaid 2. The annoying thing about these kinds of stories is, simply put, the audience is screaming at the parent to just better communicate with their kids, especially when it's not like Ginger is too haunted to talk about the farm to other characters. What was needed, I think, was real establishment that Molly knows her mom escaped from a farm but doesn't truly know what a farm is and what would happen to her on one. Maybe also have it clear that Ginger is so set on being a "free chicken" she refuses to even talk about her past with Molly- somehow thinking that her old life before was beneath what she is now, even though she was the one who escaped from it and was always worth the lifestyle she deserves. Would be a great call forward to Ginger's slight (understandable) apathy for chickens outside her flock that would come full circle to her being the character she always is and is best at. Over all I liked her, Rocky and Molly a lot. I just wished I could have heard Julia Sawahla instead.

Pacing actually moved decently for once for a modern animated kids film. That's impressive, especially for a sequel.

Mrs. Tweedy saying she "gave Ginger everything a hen could ask for" was really illuminating for her character. Really, much as I wish this wasn't the same character, I love Mrs. Tweedy wanting revenge on Ginger. On a chicken. Her dialogue revealing that she thought the life she gave the chickens on her old farm was "good" for them tells you so much about her and how she sees herself as a good farmer only if she's a successful farmer.

Haha the ending shot is perfect.

Okay one thing about this movie- this may be actually be a bad thing depending on your diet choices -this movie makes me actually really hungry for chicken and chicken nuggets. This whole franchise isn't inherently vegetarian or trying to be anti meat, granted, but that is the take away from the character's perspective given that they are the chickens. To put this a different way: the first movie makes eating chicken really unappetizing from the beginning with the "roll call" scene and the pies the chickens would potentially turn into, over the top as it is, also unpleasant. You definitely don't get anything close to the "roll call" scene in this film. A chicken does die but it's all so offscreen it has no impact, so when she's cartoonishly instantly turned into nuggets that Mrs. Tweedy eats, you don't feel anything...you kind of wanna eat the nuggets. Apologies to any chickens reading that. Here, have some happy chickens to counteract the pain:

youtube

#chicken run #chicken run 2 #dawn of the nugget #aardman #franki's features #Youtube

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hostclubau · 1 year ago

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By Any Other Name

This is an x reader, multi-ending, otome style story.

fem!reader

Summary: Your life is hell, and your parents abandoned you to a literal loan shark. A near death experience has changed the trajectory of things, but is this a blessing? Or an endless fall into things far worse than you had before?

Content Warnings: The host club has an After Hours that's effectively a brothel. There are BDSM themes and the exploration of a lot of kinks. Foul language, canon levels of violence, mature audiences only.

Chapter 1: Loaned Out

Your feet hit the pavement, spurring you forward through the tangle of streets. This was your city, but it was his too, and the only hope you had at this point was to either get yourself so lost he couldn’t find you, or get yourself to the nearest Marine Station.

Frankly, you’d almost rather take your chances with the fish-man. Marines were next to useless as far as you were concerned, and the only use they had was that most people wouldn’t shoot you in front of one.

You weren’t entirely sure if Arlong was most people or not.

Leaping over some boxes in a back alley, you turned in mid-air and darted down a different alley when you landed. Running errands for that stupid shark had at least paid off in the sense that you were capable of running for a lot longer than most people.

When you were strictly forbidden from fighting, it was a life or death skill to have.

You might be trying to dodge Arlong until his temper cooled now, but more often than that you were running from his competitors, the marines, and people who knew you worked for him. They were all idiots, and not because you could slip away from them easily, but because hurting you wasn’t going to do anything.

Arlong was more likely to throw your body in the river if you got your ass beat, than he was to see you patched up after. Probably grumbling the entire time about how much money you were costing him yet again.

Fucking loan shark.

Slowing down you take a look around and realize you’re in a part of town you don’t know well. It looked like it was almost central downtown, which was well outside Arlong’s turf. It also meant that whoever was in charge of this area was probably not going to be friendly to you.

Arlong always said that downtown was more trouble than it was worth. He didn’t trade loans with people who lived or worked around here, and he didn’t offer protection for any of the businesses. You usually avoided the area too, even if a delivery would be a little faster, but only because the city’s main Marine Office was here.

Well, looking out for marines was easy enough, especially if you stayed off the main street. Alleys were alleys no matter what city or island, so it didn’t really matter to you. Slipping back into the narrower paths you meandered through the back lines of downtown.

You’d took off from Arlong’s threats just after lunch, and with the sun lower in the sky it was probably closer to seven or eight. You might be able to find a street vendor and get something greasy and filling for dinner, and then sleep somewhere out of sight. Tomorrow he’ll be calm again, or calm enough, and you can deal with him then.

The blow to your face was a surprise.

You put your arm up as you stumble backward, nearly tripping over your feet. The punch had drove your cheek into your teeth, and you could already taste copper as you lean against the far brick wall and look up to see Arlong.

“Got tired of trying to catch you when you’re bad.” He snarls, holding up his snail box and showing you the tracker app that was running on it. “Technology’s a real bitch.”

“I completed the job,” you reply, struggling to speak clearly as your cheek’s already swelling. “I don’t get why you’re pi-.” You stop yourself. “Upset. Boss.”

“The job,” he says, breathing in and giving you a terrifying grin. “Was for you to deliver the package without being seen.”

Your stomach knots. If he’s mad, and that’s why, then someone or something clocked you. Otherwise he wouldn’t waste his energy being pissy.

“… What saw me?” You question carefully.

His brows raise. “Oh? Not going to argue huh? Finally wising the fuck up.” He straightens, tapping his snail box again until he brings up a still picture of you. It’s grainy, but the sequence of images show you dropping off the box and walking away.

It was pretty obvious it was you, but only because you and Arlong knew what you looked like. There wasn’t a shot of your face, and you weren’t wearing anything to mark you as a part of anyone’s crew. It’s a struggle to keep your expression neutral, but smart mouthing back at him right now wouldn’t help you.

“… Sorry.” You settle on the simple apology over any kind of argument. It doesn’t matter how grainy it is. It doesn’t matter that your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. All that mattered was that he didn’t want anyone to see you, and you were seen. You’d been dealing with him enough years at this point to know anything more would be an excuse.

You weren’t going to grovel, however, because there was nothing useful on those stills.

“Sorry?” He prompts and grunts something akin to a laugh. “Sorry might’ve worked before you ran through downtown to avoid me, little runt.”

At nearly seven feet tall, Arlong towers over you, and his large hand gathers most of your shirt at once, as he lifts you easily and shoves you harshly against the wall. “You’re never going to pay back what you owe as a runner.” He tilts his head, leering at you in that way he does every time he tries to convince you to do more lucrative work.

“I can tack on five grand for the inconvenience, and patch job.” He indicates your swollen check with a nod of his head. “Or we can write that off as the price of on the job training and pretty you up. Much as you humans pretty up, anyway.”

“I think I’d rather be a runner.” You grunt, the soles of your shoes scratching at the brick as you struggle to find leverage.

Your father, seas take him screaming, got into debt with Arlong when you were a kid. Dear sweet dad worked for the fish-man for a couple years before he took your mom and bounced. Or Arlong killed them, you couldn’t really be completely sure one way or the other.

With mom and dad gone, and the debt still on Arlong’s books, you were hired.

Aside from barely giving you enough money to live on, while working you to the bone, Arlong hadn’t paid much attention to you. Until recently. Maybe you hit some magic number in age, or one of his clients took a liking to you, whatever the case, he was getting pushier and pushier about turning you into one of his Dolls.

The idea of getting paid to fuck didn’t bother you.

The idea of having 80% of your earnings stolen by Arlong, who only wanted you to change jobs so he could make more off you, bothered you.

Arlong falls silent for a while, and you can feel your stomach knot. The look on his face is never a good sign. He’s irritated and what little good humor he might have had a moment ago is evaporating at an alarming rate.

“Don’t be like that,” his voice is flat, save for a slight tone of disappointment. “Really think about it. You’ll never pay off your debt as a runner.”

Even with him taking most of your earnings to pay off your debt, you would have more income. You’d be able to save up, and even have a chance at freedom. Assuming you didn’t screw anything up.

Wait.

“… I’ll never pay off my debt regardless.” You reply just as flatly. Realization had long since dawned on you the nature of this game, but there was a sudden clarity this time. There were no more slaves, not even for the nobles, not since the dragons were slain over twenty years ago.

Arlong had found another way to go about it.

Sure, you could turn him and his bullshit in, but you took a risk that the marine you reported to wasn’t already in his pocket. If they weren’t, and the risk might be small so it could be worth trying, but you’d be going down with him too. No one would give a shit that the illegal things you did were because you felt trapped.

It would be your own fault for not turning him in sooner.

Frankly, it wasn’t a comforting prospect to think about ending up in prison where Arlong would have far more reach than you’d have protection. Even as a runner you made him money, more than he spent on keeping you alive at least. It was more job security than some folks had, so you didn’t want to complain.

“That’s no way to be.” He laments, patting the side of your face. “I’m sure you’ll get-.”

“Every year I manage to pay you forty thousand berries.” You interrupt him. You shouldn’t have, you shouldn’t be talking, you most certainly should not be talking like this. “My dad’s debt was two hundred and fifty thousand berries, and I’ve been working for you for well over ten years. That’s over four hundred grand even with all the additions… boss.”

Arlong lets go of you, and you barely manage to keep your feet under you. He’s mad. At this point you’re going to earn yourself a lot more than a swollen cheek, and that’s probably going to cost you some random amount tacked onto your supposed debt.

You sigh, releasing your own frustration into the air. There wasn’t enough fear in you right now, just cold sure understanding, and anger.

Now that you’ve started its like the flood gates have opened, and you can’t muster the self-preservation needed to close them.

“Every couple months or so, something always seems to come up to tack more onto the debt. It doesn’t matter what the excuse is, the point is the principle hasn’t gone down in... fuck, nearly twenty years.” You shrug, an incredulous, clipped laugh escaping you. “It’s never going to go down. Even if you put me in a sexy suit and let your shady clients sniff my pits, it’s still not going to go down. You’ll just charge me for the sleazy dress-hurk!”

Arlong’s hand is around your throat, and the force with which he grabs you bounces your head off the bricks. You can barely breathe, your head’s throbbing, and the bricks are scraping your back through your shirt as he lifts you up roughly against them. You could swear his eyes are glowing red he’s so angry, and you aren’t sure what it was you said.

You expected you were pissing him off, but this is more akin to rage.

“Little bitch grew a pair of balls when I wasn’t looking, huh?” He snarls, driving his fist into your side. The hooked swing sends a sharp pain through you and knocks what little air was left in your lungs out. “You think some weak little cumshot can talk to me like that? Gonna stand there and tell me I’m charging you unfairly, yeah?”

He loosens his grip for a second and you suck in a pained breath. You know you should be using the precious oxygen to beg for forgiveness, but maybe this was it. The limit of what you could take. You’d been running for hours, and you were hungry enough you just didn’t care.

“Gonna… really… try an’… say you… aren’t?” You manage to choke out the words, but there’s spots on the sides of your vision and your lungs are pitching a fit again. Blacking out might be the last thing you ever do, and a small part of you wanted to succumb to it. Just be done and over with it all.

What would tomorrow bring anyway?

“You fuckin-.”

“Arlong.” A woman’s voice reaches you both and you see Arlong’s eyes widen before he looks away from you. “Don’t murder someone by my club.”

The words are enough for him to release you. This time you can’t keep your feet under you and crumple onto the ground. Gasping and coughing, it takes you a moment to recover, and both the mystery voice and Arlong seem okay with giving you that time.

You get yourself set up against the wall, opting to stay down on the ground rather than try to stand, and look around enough to see the most elegant woman you’ve ever seen standing on a raised platform. It looked like the back exit to a business, a smaller man door with the words ‘Employees Only’ stenciled across it.

It was only maybe four or fives steps up from where you and Arlong were, but she looked like she was untouchable from that far up.

A puff of smoke leaves her lips and your brain catches up enough to see the long cigarette between her fingers. The edges of her bob hair cut curl up, framing her face perfectly. She’s tall, slender, and dressed casually, but you’re left with the distinct impression she could salt and burn the ground Arlong was standing on.

And he knew it.

“I’ll buy her debt.” She states, taking a slow drag on the cigarette.

“What?” Arlong almost growls the word.

She exhales. “You said so yourself. She’s got balls.” The grin on her face is comforting, but you can’t shake the strange feeling that two demons are currently haggling over who will own your soul. “I like that.”

“You don’t even know how much it is, Shakuyaku.” He grumbles.

She laughs. “You think that matters? Leave her here, Arlong. Come by tomorrow in the morning with your books, and we’ll settle the balance.”

You notice Arlong’s fist tighten, but the angel on the balcony doesn’t seem to be bothered by it. He glares down at you for a second, but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even mouth anything as far as you can tell.

Not that he’s in a position to try and force you to turn down whatever’s being offered.

From one taskmaster to another, as far as you were concerned. The angel on the balcony only had your attention for the moment because she probably saved your life.

“You can call me Shakky,” she begins, pausing to take another drag before letting the smoke out in a slow exhale. At the very least she was more relaxing to be around than Arlong. “Can you stand?”

The question catches you off guard, and you blink dumbly a couple times before you reply. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Alright. If you get dizzy, sit back down.” She commands, taking out a snail box. She’s not watching you, but at the same time she is. Using the wall you get to your feet, but your head swims and so you just let yourself sit back down.

“I’m out back, we have a patient too dizzy to walk on her own.” She speaks in the same even and relaxed tone she’s been using from the start. You didn’t think your situation was anything to get excited about, but you wondered idly if she was ever anything other than calm. “Tell Blackleg I expect his best meal.”

She hangs up, tucking the box away and returns her focus to her cigarette. There’s silence between you that doesn’t feel heavy or awkward, but you also don’t really know where you stand. With Arlong you’d simply stay there quietly until someone came along.

Honestly, with Arlong, you’d be trying to walk no matter how dizzy you felt.

“What happens now?” You hazard the question. It’s safe enough, and you need to understand how this lady operates.

Shakky lets out another slow line of smoke and offers up a warm smile. “Our head doctor’s going to tend to you. The shift’s lead chef is going to make you something to eat, and depending on the doctor’s orders you’ll probably go to bed after that in one of the guest rooms.”

She stubs the cigarette on the railing as the door behind her opens up. A tall man steps out, and looks over at you before heading down the steps. His dusty blonde hair is pulled back into the ponytail, and he’s wearing a button up dress-shirt and slacks. There’s a noticeable scar on his forehead over his eye, but it looks like it was stitched well.

He frowns once he gets a decent look at you. “Any loose teeth?” He questions, and after you probe with your tongue you shake your head. “Feel like you’re going to vomit?”

“Not right now.”

The frown twitches into more of a smile. “Injuries anywhere I can’t see?”

“Mm.. M’back, probably.” You mutter. “Hit the bricks more’n once.”

“I’m going to shine a light in your eyes,” he explains, pulling out a small pen light, and checking your pupil’s reaction to it a couple times on each eye. He hands you a thermometer. “Under your tongue, however you can without it hurting.” He says, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead briefly.

“You should be good, but that’ll give me a more accurate reading. May I have your hand? I want to check your pulse.”

After a second’s pause you hold your hand out. He gives you thanks and then presses his fingers against your wrist for a moment, going quiet as he concentrates on his counting. Once he’s done he pulls the thermometer out and checks it.

“Nothing concerning enough to warrant the hospital.” He turns toward Shakky. “I’d like Law to scan her,” he stops and turns back to you. “If you’re okay with that. It’s a devil fruit ability, but it won’t do anything to you. It’ll just let Law know if something’s wrong that I can’t see.”

“Uh… sure?”

“Alright. I’ll get him after we get you inside and settled.” He offers you a warm smile. “My manners are awful, young miss. My name’s Hongo, if you’re not against it, it would be my pleasure to carry you inside, since you’re not feeling well.”

“I, um, I…” You stop, pressing your lips together and look over at Shakky. She’s smiling, and you can’t tell if she’s giving you permission or not, but there’s no signs of irritation on her face at all. Turning back to Hongo, you consider asking him to just give you a hand walking, but he’s a good bit taller than you.

It’s probably easier for him to just carry you. It’s not what he’s offering that has thrown you, honestly, it’s the way he offered it.

“Sure.” You aren’t sure what you expect, and accept the little medical bag he hands you before he scoops you up like some damsel in distress. Being treated kindly was wild enough, but to be carried like you weren’t just a sack of potatoes was… different.

You didn’t want to get used to it. Good things were always just a veneer. Something pretty to hide all the shit underneath no one wanted you to see. If nothing else, you had to give credit to Arlong for being ugly right up front.

But if these two wanted to feed you and let you sleep somewhere nice for a couple days, you weren’t going to say no.

#By Any Other Name #x reader #reader insert #One Piece Host Club AU #main story line #Modern AU #mdni

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